Preternatural
by xScenex
Summary: Harry is sent into a world where he takes roll of Neville's life. Going into his seventh year, how will he cope when Voldemort tries to steal Gaia's mirror? Everyone's suspicious of him.. but it isn't him they should suspect. AU written with RDL, slash[?]
1. To Wish Upon

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.**

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A/N: So here it is - Preternatural. Sorry for switching it and all, it's just that with Rubber Ducky Loser losing her internet, I found it would be a bother to me to have to sign onto her name to update. Believe me, I don't like this either, but hey... I gotta' make you guys happy! Anyways, here's the first chapter rewritten, slightly. The next chapter will feature Remus in it. Yay! - Min

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Preternatural

By: xScenex and Rubber Ducky Loser

Chapter One: To Wish Upon

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**THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN SLIGHTLY EDITED

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**

It was a night like any other. The sky was cloudless, the pure, twinkling stars glittering distantly in the unknown abyss. It was warm -- a mid-summers eve, where the wind wound about against the long blades of grass, causing them to billow and quiver in a rhythmic dance, the fireflies drifting about playing hide and seek while the chirping of the crickets sounded in the distance. The air smelt of honeysuckle and grass, with a faint hint of standing water. It was a beautiful evening.

But beautiful things are always there to cross out the ugly.

Inside the house of Number four, Privet Drive, the tranquil setting outside opposed the feelings of a certain boy.

Namely, this boy was Harry Potter.

Now, he wasn't a normal boy - no, indeed he wasn't. In fact, he wasn't normal by any standards. ANY. Get the capitalization?

Harry Potter was known by many names. The-Boy-Who-Lived, Freak, Boy, the Heir of Slytherin, among other things. I bet you cant guess why he has all of those names, eh?

Allow me to explain a bit.

This boy was born to Lily Evans and James Potter, who were a witch and a wizard. Yes, yes, it's true, they exist. After Lily had married James, they became entangled in a huge war against an evil man named Voldemort. Or, the Dark Lord Voldemort, if you'd like to get technical. Thrice had they defied him.

Soon, a prophecy came along in history, causing abrupt problems with two families. The Potter's and the Longbottom's. The prophecy stated: 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ...' Since both of the families had a child on it's way, going to be born 'as the seventh month dies'; this concluded a problem.

So the two families went into hiding, but as fate would have it, there was a traitor amidst the light. Giving away the information of the Potter's location, Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them, thus allowing the Dark Lord to find them and murder the adults. But as he turned his wand upon the youngest Potter, he found his own killing curse flung back at him. Too surprised to do anything, the dark wizard had been ripped from his own body, leaving him nothing more than a spirit awaiting life.

Long story there. We'll fill that in at a later point.

After having his parents murdered, Harry Potter, the last of the Potter family, was sent to live with his Aunt and Uncle who were completely normal, thank you very much. They completely despised anything to do with magic, therefore, they outcast their nephew and attempted to 'squash' the magic right out of him.

The years had passed, and Harry grew up. At the tender age of eleven, although many preventions had been attempted, the boy was sent a letter from a magical school by the name of Hogwarts.

He couldn't pass the opportunity down and with the help of Hagrid, was able to enroll. He befriended the half giant, collected his school supplies, and acquired his familiar, Hedwig shortly before he was off to the school.

As he attended Hogwarts, he befriended a muggle-born witch named Hermione Granger, a full-blood wizard named Ronald Weasley, and became enemies with a boy named Draco Malfoy. As the years went by, he found out his heritage, discovered magical abilities, and learned just how unfair life could be. He also found out about his Godfather in his third year of attendance.

But happiness was something that came with a price, whether or not you want it. In Harry's case, he didn't want it. Classmates died, the Dark Lord rose back into power, though steadily and discreetly, and the boy's Godfather died. He lost trust in his mentor, his friends, and eventually, he fell into the addicting depression that now plagued his life. But the last event that had taken place really put a blow to his hope: his Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had been murdered.

This is where we will find the older version of Harry Potter, sitting in his room at Number Four, Privet Drive, after coming home from his sixth year of school, aged beyond his years. He was not an innocent, carefree teenager as most would think of him to be. There was more to him than meets the eye.

And he hated it.

Sighing heavily, the raven haired boy sat down on his bed and stared out at the winking stars in the sky beyond the rooftops. It had been almost a week since he'd been back at Privet Drive. He had planned to leave there, but he couldn't find it in his heart to follow out with his plans. Even though there were horcrux's to find, he just couldn't find it in himself to get up and leave.

The depression had settled in worse than before. He was thinner than he'd ever been; his pale skin was stretched against his gaunt face, causing his emerald eyes to shine out as if in a desperate plea for help. His long, bony fingers shook with constant anxiousness as he tiredly ran them through his dark locks that surrounded his face and fell messily but elegantly against his shoulders.

If his aunt, uncle, or cousin noticed these changes, they hadn't said anything, although Harry had caught his aunt watching him from the distance every once in a while. But even though his family hadn't noticed the differences in him, his friends sure had. They had berated him for not eating and allowing himself to waste away the month before they were forced to go home, leaving behind the loving castle of Hogwarts, never to return for their last year of school.

The boy didn't listen to them though. He was lost in his own thoughts. Even the sight of meat had his stomach churning.

Harry allowed a small yawn to escape his lips as he stood up slowly. He peered around his room for a moment, taking in all his belongings strewn around the room. He checked to see if he had his wand in his pocket before nodding slightly to himself. He was always sure to keep his only defense weapon with him at all times, even in his sleep, and cursed himself if he forgot it anywhere. It just wasn't allowed anymore, for a witch or wizard to forget their wand. Voldemort was still up and about, and with Harry being on his top five Hit List, he was just asking for death if he left his holly wand somewhere and forgot about it. After a moment of stretching, the boy took one more glance out the window before he decided to go downstairs to begin cooking dinner for the Dursley's. That would take his mind off of some things going on in his life, at least.

After walking slowly down the hall, down the stairs, and into the brightly lit kitchen, he looked around as if in a daze. He'd been doing that a lot recently; seeing things as if in a new perspective. After shaking himself out of his stupor, he went over to the refrigerator and began searching for the items he needed to make an Italian dish.

After about half an hour of standing over an overly heated oven, he decided to sit down at the table and wait for the noodles to finish boiling. While he waited and stared off into space, he didn't notice his aunt coming in from the door to the right that led from the living area. The woman had paused in her footsteps to get a good look at her nephew.

It was odd, to her, to see such a young man looking so old and worn out. He looked like the living dead, to put it simply. She knew he didn't eat anymore, and he would have horrific nightmares, or night terrors. He fidgeted constantly, as if just waiting to be attacked. He was a lost cause to her. There was nothing left of the boy she had grown to know, even if she disliked him still. He used to be so much like his mother, but now...

After a few moments, the boy finally realized her presence and turned to stare at her with a detached gaze.

"Dinner should be done in half an hour, Aunt Petunia," he stated dully, turning his gaze away from her, to stare out at the open window above the sink, where the warm breeze from outside drifted in, mixing the smells of pasta and flowers together in a soothing, exotic aroma.

He didn't catch the woman's slightly worried gaze, or the way she fidgeted before walking awkwardly towards him. She took a seat across from the wizard, startling him from his stupor. Harry sent her a questioning gaze.

The woman cleared her throat after a moment's pause, "Erm, Harry," she began, "I've noticed that you've, uh, stopped eating."

Harry just looked at her with that dull, penetrating stare that made her squirm in her seat, "I've been eating, Aunt Petunia," he told her, then added almost accusingly, "Not that it would matter to any of you."

His Aunt winced slightly, but continued, "I know something happened at that - that school of yours."

"Oh," was the only response she received. Even that sounded far distant.

"Yes, well." She looked extremely uncomfortable, "I-I wont ask you what happened, because I really don't care."

This caused Harry to give her a small, ghost-like smile, "Some things never change."

She shot him a glare, "Don't talk to me that way, boy. I'm trying to help you here." Her nephew nodded apologetically, but she knew he didn't mean it. Sighing, she said, "And I think I have the right thing for you."

After a questioning stare, she pulled something out of her pocket. It was oddly shaped, almost a cross between a circle and a triangle. It was silver, with chrome crisscrossing lines that sent light shafts everywhere and reflected all of it's surroundings perfectly, images of the kitchen and it's two occupants standing out among the light. There was a small knob at the top, almost like one of those winders on a musical doll. It reeked of magic.

Harry shivered at the sheer magic issuing from it. "What is it?" he questioned quietly, perplexed by the beauty it possessed, yet aware of the danger it possibly held.

"Do you honestly think I know that, Boy?" his Aunt snapped, then took a deep breath as if she were forcing herself to be calm. "That Headmaster of yours gave it to me years ago, when they left you on our doorstep." The boy took a deep breath and looked away from the woman across from him at the mention of his Headmaster. The memories were still painful. Unaware of the effect, she continued, "He left a note with it, saying that if you were ever in great need of a change, or if something extremely bad had happened and there was no hope left, to give this to you. The note said that once you have it, you'll know what to do with it."

Sliding the object towards Harry, she stood up and left the room without another word. The boy stared at the item on the tabletop in front of him, wondering what it was. The power emitting from it unsettled him, but he knew it wouldn't harm him. If his Aunt had touched it without being hurt, it shouldn't hurt him... right? It was from Dumbledore, after all.

He reached out and picked it up delicately, all the while feeling the raw power against his fingertips. It was almost an addicting. Actually… it _was _addicting.

Narrowing his eyes only slightly, Harry weighed the object in his hands, realizing that it was much lighter and warmer than it had looked. He blinked as he suddenly felt something different about himself. He felt a yearning in his heart for something, but he didn't know what. _'Once you have it, you'll know what to do with it…'_ His Aunts words rang through his mind. What would he do with it?

Just as he thought of what his Aunt had previously said, he felt the sudden urge to go outside. Blinking owlishly at the feeling, he stood up and went out through the back door as quietly as he could and breathed in the scent of the night as the summer breeze blew across his face.

A firefly passed him as he began walking through the small garden in the back, until he was in the center of the neatly cut yard. He stared up at the sky for a moment, his eyes locking onto a certain star that had been his only comfort since he'd arrived at Privet Drive, besides his trusty owl, Hedwig. It was the Dog Star. The very star that his Godfather had been named after.

He missed his Godfather greatly. He wanted him to be there with him; but that would never be since the man was now dead - taken from Harry's life through the Veil of Death. A distant anguish engulfed Harry's heart at the thought of the Grim-like man.

The object that Harry held in his hands seemed to pulse convulsively as he felt the loss of his father-figure in his heart. What did Harry truly want? His Godfather back? His parents? Or even Dumbledore?

"I want a life where I was never The-Boy-Who-Lived," he said unconsciously with hooded eyes rested on his reflection in the object, realizing that that was truly what he wanted.

Suddenly, the world began to spin. He felt the ground quiver beneath him, and the sky above him seemed to collapse. The air suddenly convulsed and closed in tightly against his body and lungs in an almost suffocating way. Wind whistled in his ears loudly, but Harry was unable to move an inch. Glued in one spot, he stared, wide-eyed at the object in his hands. It pulsed, getting hotter and hotter each second and scorched his hands until he could feel tears well up in his eyes.

Soon, when it became almost unbearable, the mirror burst into pieces, releasing a horde of blue light and throwing Harry back for what seemed like miles.

And then the boy landed with a thump, right onto something remotely hard, yet soft at the same time.

Opening his eyes with a trained awareness, Harry realized that he was in a house, lying sprawled on a blue carpeted floor. He blinked and looked around, his senses working full force.

The room he had plain white walls, adorned with many posters and shelves that contained books, and photograph frames were scattered here and there among the place. There was an unmade bed and a bedside table in the far corner next to a single window, closed off by white blinds. An antique wardrobe stood at the other end, and to the far right corner of that stood a full-length mirror.

That definitely wasn't his room.

Feeling bruised and battered, Harry stood up unsteadily while his eyes darted around the room. He wasn't sure what happened, but that object had taken him somewhere. But where, he didn't know. For all he knew, his Aunt could have been under an Imperus curse and had handed him an object that would lead him to Voldemort... _Oh bloody hell, _he thought in the back of his mind for his carelessness.

But... when his Aunt said that the object would help him, did she mean it? And if so, what did the words mean?

Deciding that he shouldn't just stand there like an idiot, he began to shuffle around the room as quietly as possible, looking through drawers and other things, hoping to find something that would help him know where he was.

Oddly enough, when he opened one of the middle drawers to the bedside table, he found a whole bunch of bubblegum wrappers inside, some of the same brand and others not.

"That's odd…" he mumbled to himself before shutting it hurriedly. Afterwards, he opened another drawer and found an already read letter sitting inside with a neat scrawl addressed to him. The date on the front told him it had been just from the night before. Opening it with shaking hands, he read:

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope this finds you well. I know we haven't seen each other since Christmas, but you're going to have to wait a bit longer until I come home. This Auror business has kept me busy lately, and since I'm still in Germany training, I'm afraid it may be another month before I'm able to see you again, since the Ministry is hyped about Voldemort's return. They've been working us nonstop, afraid that he'll bare down on them any second. And as Neville is in constant danger, they're having us keep lookouts on his relatives house._

_I know things at school have been hard for you, and I wish dearly that I were there to guide you through things at the moment, but I can't. Please forgive me. I'll try to make up for it when we see each other in a month._

_Take care of the house while I'm away, and remember not to leave the dish water running too long. I know you can forget that sometimes. And NO magic! I know you're allowed it now, but I really don't want to come home finding the house in ruins. Sorry, I had to say that._

_Please take care, Harry. I do miss you._

_Sincerely,_

_Sirius_

Harry gaped. And continued to gape.

"Sirius?"

Looking at the letter awkwardly, things began to sink in. _'…Neville is in constant danger…', '…Voldemort's return…'_

It was odd, but Harry knew exactly what had happened. It was more of a gut feeling than anything else.

That object his Aunt had given him wasn't a trick planned out by a Death Eater or even Voldemort himself. It was, indeed, from Dumbledore and had granted his most heart-felt desire: to be someone other than The-Boy-Who-Lived. His aunt had practically stated before handing him the item that it would grant him that desire... had the Headmaster really thought so highly of Harry to give him something of such power?

The letter stated, although not up-front, that Neville was The-Boy-Who-Lived. It was as if Harry had switched rolls with his fellow classmate. And Sirius was there! Sirius was alive!

The reality sunk in, and laughing for the first time in months, Harry sat down heavily on the bed next to him. He laughed and laughed, doubled over and clutching his side, feeling as if something drastic had been lifted from his shoulders.

"I can't believe it," he breathed out after his hysterics had subsided slightly. "I just can't believe it. If I knew things could be this simple, I would have done this sooner."

Hope began to bubble in his chest as he rested his head in his hands. He felt exhausted, although at the same time, he felt as if he could take on the world. Maybe, just maybe, he had a chance. His Godfather was alive, from what he knew, Dumbledore might even be alive! Things could be much different!

With those thoughts in mind, the boy laid down on the bed fully dressed and closed his eyes slowly despite wanting to stay awake.

_Yes, _he thought, hoping to whatever God was up There, that when he woke up it wouldn't be just a dream. _If this is real, then I do have a chance._


	2. Reunions and Keepsakes

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.**

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A/N: I present to you - Chapter Two: Reunions and Keepsakes! So, this is now a few pages longer. I've slightly altered the scene with Harry's parents, and I've added onto the end, with Remus showing up at the end of the day. I hope you guys like it. And please review and tell me what you think, so I know if I should change anything further in the story.Thanks to all of you who are still sticking with the story! - Min

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Preternatural

By: xScenex and Rubber Ducky Loser

Chapter Two: Reunions and Keepsakes

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Harry had slept for three full days after having fallen into that unknown world, waking up at short intervals to eat or use the lavatories. He was more than pleased to realize that what had happened wasn't a dream, and was in fact, real. It was definitely a dream come true.

He spent quite a while after those three days making himself familiar with the house he was in. It was a nice, three bedroom house that reminded him of the Dursley's -- although, this one seemed more human. It wasn't spotless, although it was clean. It had it's homey touches, with pictures everywhere and random wizarding knickknacks thrown about with the muggle items.

What the boy found to be a bit unsettling about the house though, was all the pictures of him growing up that sat on the fireplace mantle, or on the many cabinets or shelves. It was eerie seeing pictures of a childhood he never had, without the lightening bolt scar that still marred his forehead. And those pictures... the ones with him and his parents...

It was odd, but he got used to it.

Before he knew it, almost three weeks had passed by, and remembering the letter, he realized that he would be seeing Sirius soon. The mere thought of that gave him so much hope that he was even able to eat half of his dinner that night.

The days ticked by, and Harry became more nervous about the meeting with Sirius. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to act around his Godfather, seeing that this was a completely different man. He hadn't been sent to Azkaban for a murder he never committed. He hadn't been on the run for years on end before his death... and suddenly, for the first time since he'd been thrown into his 'dream world' as he began to call it, Harry realized that his parents were there -- not alive, no, but there, in St. Mungo's, if roles had completely switched with Neville. They were... there.

Tears sprang into Harry's eyes as he realized that one day, he might actually see his parents. It was odd, he realized, and wondered how he'd deal with the soulless vessels of the people he'd dreamt of having all his life.

Before he could think any further, he heard a key turning in the front door and it opened.

His heart leapt in his chest. He stood up uncertainly from his seat on the couch and walked slowly towards the door, feeling his palms beginning to sweat. He was nervous -- but you couldn't blame him. He was about to see his Godfather, alive and well.

"Harry?" A voice rang out. It sounded foreign to Harry's ears, yet there was still a hint of recognition in it. It wasn't so gravelly or hoarse as he was used to. "Harry, are you here?"

"I--I'm in here," the boy called out brokenly, trying his hardest not to break down before seeing the man he had cared about over a year ago.

After hearing a loud clinking noise of keys being placed on a table, he heard footsteps coming closer to the living area. He shifted anxiously, waiting for Sirius to come into view, and he wasn't disappointed.

The man that he set his eyes on was tall, with neatly trimmed black - albeit graying - hair. He had a medium build and sparkling blue eyes. He wore a well-fitted t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans and black trainers. The smile that had been on the mans face fell though, when he set eyes on his Godson.

"Merlin, Harry," he sputtered. "What happened to you?"

Not quite sure what he was talking about, Harry looked down at his shaking hands. They seemed to shake a lot lately, he realized. Harry shrugged his slender shoulders and looked up again, eyes focusing on Sirius'. This time, he saw tears welling up in the older mans eyes.

"Oh, Harry. I didn't realize that things were getting that bad," he whispered and stepped forward, bringing his Godson into a tight, fatherly embrace.

That's when Harry broke down. He began sobbing, clutching desperately onto the man that he had come to know and love. "Sirius," he sobbed, "Sirius, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Shh," Sirius replied, unaware of the true meaning of Harry's words. "I should be the one saying I'm sorry. Look at you -- I mean…"

As the man trailed off, Harry hugged him tighter, "It's my fault, Sirius. All my fault. I'm so sorry--"

"Hush," Sirius patted him on the back, then pulled away, placing his hands on either of his arms. He stepped back to a respectful distance and looked the boy up and down. A look of sadness swept over the animagus's face as he took in all of Harry's features. "Merlin…"

Harry wiped at his still streaming eyes, feeling drained but happy. His Godfather was actually there with him now. Everything would be okay.

"I'm so glad to see you, Sirius," he stated truthfully.

"I'm glad to see you too, Harry. Now, I think it's time for us to get some dinner. What do you say?" The man asked, although uncertainly as he patted harry's shoulder a bit.

"I've already eaten," Harry told him, but smiled a bit, "But if you're hungry, I'll be more than happy to join you."

"Great!" Sirius exclaimed, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders and steering him into the kitchen, "I see that you've kept things in order around here. You didn't use magic, did you?"

"Erm," Harry looked at him uncertainly. He had used a bit of magic as he tried to get used to his new wand. Even though he had his Holly wand, he didn't want to use it in case it seemed suspicious, so he began using the wand he found on the bedside table in his room. "I, er, used a bit." At the look of panic that passed across his Godfathers face, Harry rushed to explain, "I wasn't for anything big, really. No harm done."

Relief, but slight uncertainty settled on the older wizards face. Harry then realized that this Sirius was a lot more expressive. "Good. Well, I'm famished. Does steak sound good to you?"

Harry smiled for the first time in a while, "Sounds great."

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Harry couldn't have been happier. His life seemed to be one of a fairytale; for him at least.

Living with Sirius was more wonderful than he had ever thought. Sirius wasn't too strict, yet he wasn't too lenient. He was a great parental figure, Harry realized. He figured that he had grown up a lot more, although sometimes he still had that Marauder side in him, where he would play a small prank here and there. Harry was more than happy to counter his antics, surprising Sirius more than anything. Harry guessed that Sirius wasn't used to Harry being able to counter his pranks, as he was supposed to be horrible at magic.

Harry knew that Sirius would eventually catch on to him not being clumsy, and there was the fact that he could do a lot more magic than Neville ever had. Also, Harry had been surprised that it was taking so long for his Godfather to realize, he had the lightening bolt scar on his forehead. Most would have noticed it by then, but Sirius hadn't. Maybe his hair was in the way?

But Harry was completely content with his life now. He was surprised to realize that he had settled into life there so quickly. He thought it would be awkward, but instead, it was simple, easy, and actually a bit of fun. The only thing he had against it was how fast the time seemed to go by.

Time was passing too quickly in Harry's opinion. It was his birthday now, and Sirius had planned for them to do something fun that day. They had to be careful though, Sirius had told him though, because Voldemort was still at large.

Harry had learned that Voldemort had been brought back the same way he had before, except with Neville's blood instead of his. But not everything was the same -- although months ago, before things had changed, Dumbledore had died, here, he was still alive in this dream world.

After hearing that bit of news, Harry had nearly burst into tears again. Things were looking up, indeed.

The only problem was, the boy was having trouble eating still, and he had numerous nightmares. He didn't tell Sirius though, as he preferred to cast silencing charms around his bed at night, but there were those few nights where he'd forget about them and would end up waking Sirius up. His Godfather was worried though, Harry knew, because of his weight and his appearance, and the night terrors that plagued his sleep didn't help much. He also had a slight feeling that Sirius would come into his room at night to watch him sometimes because quite a few nights, Sirius would randomly wake him up and ask him a question - sometimes varying from what did he want to eat in the morning to where he put his socks. Harry was also a bit obviously because his attitude had ultimately changed from the nervous, stuttering boy, to the quiet, depressed man.

As much as Harry tried, he couldn't change his attitude. It was something he was stuck with, as it was part of himself. Hopefully nobody else would care and those that might wouldn't notice.

"Harry, are you up yet?" called Sirius from downstairs.

"Yes," Harry called back as he ran his fingers through his untamed hair to get the tangles out. He looked at his image in the mirror and frowned. He really did need to eat more. He was still skeletal and pale, with that haunted look in his eyes. He was unnerved, himself, by the look in his eyes. It reminded him of the Avada Kedavra curse.

Shuddering slightly, Harry adjusted his shirt - which fitted him better than Dudley's clothes had, but was still extremely loose against his gaunt form - and threw on a light cloak before he left the room to find Sirius.

The other man was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. He smiled as his Godson walked into the room.

"So, how's my birthday boy?"

Harry only smiled slightly at the man. "Where are we going?"

"Oh, well, seeing that you haven't gotten out in a while, I was thinking about taking you to Diagon Alley to get you a present or two. Then we can get some ice cream and afterwards you can pick a place to go. Sound good?"

"Sounds great."

"Alright! Lets get going."

* * *

After flooing to The Leaky Cauldron, Sirius steered Harry outside to the wall that was the portal to Diagon Alley.

As usual, the place was packed, although not as much as one would normally think. Since Voldemort had made his public appearance, people were very uneasy to be out alone.

"So, where would you like to go? You know, they have some new books on Herbology that you might like."

Harry nearly grimaced at the thought of liking Herbology. He was okay at it, but not great. "I think I'd like to go to the Quidditch shop, if that's okay with you."

"Quidditch? I thought you didn't like Quidditch."

Harry shrugged indifferently. "I've been practicing, and I've gotten better."

The man grinned widely, "Finally interested, eh?"

Harry attempted to smile back, nodding. "Yeah, it's a lot better once you get used to it, I reckon."

"That's my boy! So, a trip to get a new, state-of-the-line broom it is then!"

An hour later, Harry and Sirius exited the shop with a brand new Firebolt. Sirius had insisted that Harry get it, as a birthday present and a make-up present for not being home for about a month before. Harry refused, but his Godfather had been overly persistent, and eventually he gave in.

Now, the two of them sat at one of the many booths in front of Florence Fortescue's ice cream parlor. Sirius was on his second ice-cream cone, while Harry had barely finished his first, and only one.

Harry couldn't see how the man hadn't gotten a brain freeze yet, seeing that he literally wolfed down the first one and was almost through with the second.

"You eat a lot," Harry commented half-heartedly.

"And you don't eat enough," he retorted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Seriously, Harry. You're a stick."

The younger wizard felt his cheeks flush, "No I'm not!"

"As much as you deny it, you are," Sirius suddenly seemed to sober more as he looked at the boy. "I don't know what happened Harry, and I wish you'd tell me. I just can't imagine what caused you to stop eating."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said lamely, unsure of what to say. He didn't know much about Neville's life, and now he wished he did. It would have helped him greatly, now.

Sighing heavily, Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, if you say so. I just wish there was something I could do to help you. I'm always gone and I don't see you much, you know? I just want to be there for you when you're having trouble."

Harry felt his heart clench painfully in his ribcage. "Sirius, you being here with me today is the most I could ask for," he stated truthfully, feeling tears prickle at his eyes but he refused to allow them to fall. "I couldn't be any happier right now."

And it was true. Harry didn't want the summer to end. He was perfectly happy being there with Sirius. It was, in all honesty, a dream come true.

The older man smiled sincerely at him. "I think we should get going, Harry. It's getting late, and if you wanted to do anything, I think we'd best do it before it's dark. Where to?"

Nodding, Harry began to think. Where would he like to go? He'd never really had the chance to do anything of his choice in his life, so he felt awkward as the man waited patiently for an answer.

"Well," Harry began, unsure of what to say. "I don't really know where I want to go. I'm not that great with deciding things.."

"Come now, there has to be something you'd like to do," Sirius urged.

"Well," Harry thought for a moment. "I… I would like to, erm, visit mum and dad," he said quietly.

The air around them seemed to become slightly gloomy as sadness swept over both of them. Sirius was smiling sadly again, "I think that'd be a great idea, Harry. Come, lets go before visiting hours are over."

Harry and the older man stood up and made their way back to the pub. They flooed to St. Mungo's and waited patiently before they were allowed to go see the two patients admitted into the ward.

The boy was nervous. He was actually going to see his parents up close. He wasn't sure if he should be happy or sad about their state of mind, but decided to be optimistic about it all.

After walking for a long time down the long, empty halls, they stopped at the door leading to the room where Mr. Weasley had once been placed after his snake bite at the Ministry.

Cautiously, Sirius opened the door and allowed Harry to walk in first.

The room was brightly lit. From what he could see, there were no other occupants in the room, but he figured that his parents were behind the curtain across from them, just as it had been before with Neville's family.

Gulping quietly, Harry walked forward, feeling as if he were in a daze. When he reached the grey curtain, he pulled it back slowly, allowing his eyes to take in the scene before him.

A woman with graying red hair lay on a bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling above her with dull, green eyes. She was wearing a simple hospital gown over her gaunt, pale form, with a blanket draped over her lower body.

Next to her on another bed was a man with black hair, resembling Sirius' almost, although his was shorter. The man wasn't wearing any glasses, which caused his face to show out more than expected. His skin was stretched against his face, making him look almost as Harry did. Oddly enough, the boy thought that he looked like a mirror image of his father at the moment, besides the fact that he was wearing glasses, whereas the other man wasn't. They were both skeletal.

"Mum, Dad," Harry whispered although his throat was tight and walked over towards where the woman lay.

He placed a hand gently on her own, marveling at the fact that he was actually able to touch her. The woman didn't respond to his touch and continued to stare up at the ceiling. Harry choked back a sob as he moved a stray piece of hair out of his mothers face, memorizing every wrinkle on her face. It was obvious that she had once been a beautiful woman, but many years of neglect to keep herself healthy made her into what she was then.

"Hey mum," he said, kneeling down next to the bed. "I know you probably don't understand what I'm saying, but…" he paused for a moment, unsure how he wanted to word what he wanted to say. Eventually, unable to find a better way to say it, he blurted out, "I-I love you mum."

The woman turned her head slightly, as if she heard, but didn't move otherwise. Leaning over a bit, Harry kissed the woman's cheek lightly before getting up and walking to the next bed.

His father's eyes were closed, so Harry figured he was asleep. Feeling overly emotional, Harry knelt down once again. "'Lo, Dad."

He grabbed the mans hand in his for a moment and closed his eyes. He felt tears forming against his closed eyelids and wondered briefly if he were going to cry. After a few minutes, he opened them again and noticed that his father had gripped onto his hand slightly. Harry smiled sorrowfully, his eyesight blurry because of unshed tears, "I love you too, Dad. I want you to know that, even if you don't understand what I'm saying. I'm glad to see you, you know? I just wish there were more that I could do…"

He sat like that for a while, staring at his father. Like he had with his mother, he stared at every line, wrinkle, or freckle on the mans face, trying to permanently etch the memory into his mind. It might not be the happiest memory, but he knew if he didn't he would regret it someday. It was the first time he'd ever laid eyes on his parents in person; that he could remember anyway.

After a long time passed, Sirius came and got him. Harry figured that it was hard for Sirius to see two of his best friends in such a state, as he stayed outside of the curtains.

"Time to go, Harry. Visiting hours are almost over."

Nodding dejectedly, Harry glanced once more at his parents before allowing himself to be steered away. Maybe he would get to see them during Christmas.

But before they got too far, Harry heard a noise and turned around, despite the arm around his shoulders.

He saw that his mother had moved a bit in her bed and stared at him with blank eyes, but a glint of recognition shone in her eyes. For a moment, nothing happened as they stared at one another, but then, slowly, she extended one of her bony hands towards Harry.

He stared, unsurely, until Sirius nudged him forward, "Go on, Harry. She's got something for you."

He glanced from the man to the woman, then slowly walked towards her, slowly cupping her hand in his. She let go of a slip of paper which promptly fell into his hands and withdrew the hand before looking away to a spot on the wall.

Harry felt his heart break and with a shuddering breath, he ripped his eyes away from the woman and resumed walking with Sirius, a noticeable shake in his shoulders. As they went, Harry looked at the paper in his hands. It was a crinkled wrapper of Droobles Best Blowing Gum, creased so much that the color had faded where the folds were.

Harry's eyes were large and shining with emotions. He fingered the slip of paper for a moment, realizing that it was the first object given to him by any of his parents - that he could remember. He stared, and stared, before he slowly placed it into his pocket, making sure not to mess it up any more than it already was.

As he and Sirius were walking once again down the halls, Harry thought to himself, _Voldemort will pay, one day, for what he did to my parents. One day…_

* * *

Back at the house, both Sirius and Harry sat in thoughtful silence while lounging in the sitting area. Harry lay sprawled out on the couch, legs hanging over one end while he stared silently at the ceiling above him. Sirius sat on a recliner, his feet propped up on the coffee table. He looked half asleep, Harry thought, but realized that he was probably quite alert at the moment.

Harry couldn't stop thinking about his parents. It was the first time that he'd ever laid eyes on them since he could remember. They were flesh and blood, but their souls were gone... they were insane. They probably didn't even recognize him.

He shifted a bit on the cushions so that he was able to see through the kitchen door. He, too, liked to be able to see his surroundings. It was just a natural instinct for him now. Constant Vigilance, was Moody's motto.

"Harry."

Harry jumped a bit at the sudden speech but turned all the same to look over at Sirius, who now had his eyes trained on him.

"Hm?"

"Moony's supposed to be here soon," he said, yawning loudly.

"Oh." He'd forgotten about that. Once again, he felt sheepish for not remembering about Remus.

"You haven't seen him in a long time, you know," Sirius said offhandedly.

Harry just shrugged, unsure of how he should respond. He readlly didn't know how long it had been since the other Harry had seen Professor Lupin and he didn't want to say anything suspicious.

"Are you feeling okay, Harry?" the boy's Godfather asked, frown lines etched on his forehead.

"I'm fine. I'm just thinking," Harry told him.

"A knut for your thoughts?"

Harry gave him a slight smile, "I'm just thinking about... mum and dad."

The other man nodded solemnly and was about to say something but a knock came from the door. He stood up and hurried to answer it. Harry could hear various greetings, then the shuffling of feet in the hall. After a few moments, Harry was able to see both men come into view from the door leading from the hall.

He was glad to see that Remus didn't look any different than he had before he'd left his own world, but there were slight changes. His clothing was a bit newer looking, and his eyes didn't swim with sadness like before.

"Harry!" he greeted, eyes landing on the boy. The amber orbs widened a bit at the appearance, but the look was quickly replaced by something else that Harry couldn't figure out. Standing up hesitantly, Harry looked at Remus. He knew the werewolf had a sharp eye.

"Hey... Remus," Harry struggled with the foreign name for a moment, unsure of how he was supposed to greet the man. Both of the adults looked at him unsurely for a moment, then Remus went up to Harry and stiffly embraced him, as if waiting for him to attack.

"What happened to you calling me Uncle Moony? Too old for that now?" He half joked, but there was a slight edge to his voice.

Harry was silent for a moment, but thought up an excuse, "Sorry, I'm just not feeling myself lately."

"I'd say!" Sirius exclaimed, his bark-like laugh drowning the moody atmosphere.

Remus let go of Harry but shot him an odd look. Harry shifted nervously under the gaze and looked off to the side, hoping that there was no danger in letting Remus see him as he was. Werewolves were good at sensing changes. He knew that he must look, smell, and act different to the man, and the instincts that came with the curse probably told the man to be wary of him.

"So how was your birthday, Harry?" Remus asked him as he took a seat in a chair next to Sirius' and they all resumed their sitting positions - Harry sat on the far end of the couch instead of lying on it, aware that all eyes were trained on him.

"It was nice," Harry said thoughtfully. In truth, it had been one of the best birthdays he'd ever had, despite his gloom on not getting the usual packages from Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley. "I saw mum and dad today."

Remus nodded respectfully, "So what did this idiot," he jerked his thumb towards Sirius, who shot him an indignant glare, "get you for your birthday?"

"Oh," Harry felt his face drain slightly, "He got me a broomstick."

One eyebrow rose slowly, amber eyes locked onto green. "I didn't know you were into Quidditch."

"I'm practicing," Harry hurried to explain. "I realized that once I could get used to the heights, that it's actually fun."

"He's got to have his fathers skills," Sirius smiled broadly. "Ever Potter has Quidditch skills, whether they want them or not."

Harry gave the man a slight smile, inwardly thanking him for taking the attention off him.

"That's not exactly true, Sirius," Remus chided, "There was Alias Potter, remember? James' uncle's brother? And then there was Gladius Potter; you couldn't forget her."

"Alias was only a bad player because he chose a position not fit for him," scowled Sirius. "And Gladius was a woman." Eyebrows rose at the statement.

"Sirius, it doesn't matter what gender one is, if they have skills, they have skills. If they don't, then let it be. You're as dense as ever, Padfoot."

"Hey," the man yelped, "I resent that!"

The night slowly passed and Harry began to tire. As much as he loved watching two former Marauders bicker, fight, laugh, and joke during dinner and just about anywhere else, he needed his sleep or he'd have no energy in the morning.

He stood up and bid the men goodnight, which they returned. He pointedly ignored the still unknown look in Remus' eyes and went up to his room, where he begun to change into his pajama's.

As he pulled his shirt off, he looked at himself in the mirror and grimaced. He hated himself, the way he looked. He never cared before, but now… it was so obvious that he was thin. Shrugging a bit in obvious distaste, he finished changing into just a pair of pajama pants and a button up shirt before he sat down on his bed.

He picked up his jeans from the day's events and rummaged in the pockets for a moment and fished out the sole bubblegum wrapper he'd received.

That, itself, had been the best present given to him.

As odd as it sounded, it was from his mother. The only present he had gotten in years from her. He stared at it, turning it over and over in his hands.

Harry was unsure of how long he sat there, but he knew it was a long time. He could still hear riotous laughter and talking from the two men downstairs, and the moon was high in the sky.

The shadows in his room stood out in contrast to the tiny lamp on his bedside table and he could clearly see his image in the mirror across the room. He looked at it, and saw himself - what used to be The-Boy-Who-Lived. Wasted, dejected, and overall, at a loss of hope. He realized then, at that moment, just what challenges were going to come. That day, he'd learned a valuable thing, seeing his parents and the life he'd never had. He was no longer what he used to be.

He was no longer Harry. And this was no longer his world.

* * *

Review? Please?


	3. Nevermore

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.**

* * *

A/N: This chapter's practically the same except for I've added a small flashback with Sirius and Remus talking about Harry's health the night of the last chapter. Or, to make it simple, they're talking the night of Harry's birthday. I'm trying to build up the storyline a bit more, as I realized that what the upcoming plot holds needed a bit more of a base - so I've fixed it up a bit. You may or may not catch on, but I don't think it really matters. I'll get the next chapter up soon. I'm a bit dissapointed by the lack of reviews, but it's nothing big. Thanks for those who read this and for those who reviewed! Now onward with the chapter!

* * *

Preternatural

By: xScenex and Rubber Ducky Loser

Chapter Three: Nevermore

* * *

Sirius Black was always one to worry over his Godson. Of course, it was only natural as the boy was the son of his best friend and his wife. But recently, his worry had been increasing.

He didn't know what it was, but he knew something had happened. Harry hadn't been himself, ever since he'd last seen him the Christmas before. That was over half a year ago.

After he had finished his Auror training in Germany, he was hoping to go home and find Harry good and healthy like always, but was surprised to see such a… change in the boy. Skinny and underfed were understatements to the state of being the child was in. Not that he was a child anymore-- he was nearly an adult. There were too many smaller things he noticed, such as, Harry didn't smile much, and when he did, it was usually forced. He didn't laugh anymore, and one of the most noticeable things was that he wasn't clumsy anymore.

But what unnerved him the most was the look in the boys eyes. The usual, nervous, shifty eyes that adorned his face were now overly bright and wise with a hint of grief and darkness in them, as if he'd seen too much in his lifetime that caused him such pain. The only time he'd ever seen that look was when he stared into the eyes of an old war Veteran - like MadEye. Even more unsettling was the color of his eyes now. They resembled the killing curse he'd seen many times; and it scared him.

Even Remus had noticed the changes - and when Remus knew something, he knew it. No joke. He remembered one of their previous conversations, one that took place the night of Harry's birthday…

* * *

_The two men stared as the boy walked out of the sitting area, deep in thought. When he was way out of earshot and the shutting of his bedroom door was heard, Remus turned sharply towards Sirius._

"_Something wrong, Moony?" Sirius questioned._

"_Yes!" the man hissed, taking Sirius by surprise. "Harry's what's wrong!"_

_Taken completely aback, Sirius countered defensively, "There's nothing wrong with Harry! He's just a bit… depressed from what's been happening at Hogwarts!"_

"_That's not what I was talking about," the werewolf growled out, sniffing the air delicately. Sirius stared, slightly amused, and slightly apprehensive. What was he trying to get at?_

"_Then what?"_

"_His scent, Sirius. It's changed. It's full of Dark Magic. Traces of it, in any case."_

"_Dark magic?" Sirius paled greatly. Harry couldn't… he couldn't be…._

_The russet haired man looked seriously at his friend, "Sirius, I'll be truthful here. The magic I can smell is a bit subdued, as if he's been cursed by something. But it's not recent - not from what I can tell. It smells like those spells do after years and years since it had been used on a person."_

"_It may be because of what happened at the Department of Mysteries-"_

"_No, I would have noticed it before, then," Remus interrupted, his brows creasing in a frown._

_Sirius began thinking franticly. What could his Godson have done? Or, better yet, what could someone have done to him? Anger bubbled in his chest, "If I find out that anyone has been casting curses on my son, I'll-"_

"_Sirius," Remus sighed, looking back towards the doorway where Harry left. "Calm down. Maybe it's just something I missed - he did take a lot of medical potions at the time that I saw him. It could have just subdued the scent and I never noticed it."_

"_Oh…" that sort of made since, Sirius thought. But hearing about Dark Magic and Harry made him very uneasy…_

_Sirius just didn't understand what was going on. What could have happened to his Godson in less than a year to cause such a change in him? __Had _a dark curse from the Death Eater attack at the Department of Mysteries have effected Harry? It was true that the treatment for the wounds was well over, but maybe there was something worse that the medi-wizards didn't catch? He decided he needed to talk to the Headmaster about it._

* * *

_

Sirius just didn't understand what was going on. What could have happened to his Godson in less than a year to cause such a change in him? a dark curse from the Death Eater attack at the Department of Mysteries have effected Harry? It was true that the treatment for the wounds was well over, but maybe there was something worse that the medi-wizards didn't catch? He decided he needed to talk to the Headmaster about it. 

It was now a week before the return to Hogwarts that Sirius received an owl from the Headmaster responding to his previous letter on Harry's behalf.

Opening the letter eagerly, he read through it.

_Dear Mr. Black,_

_I'm sorry to say that I do not know what has happened to young Harry. The last I saw him, he seemed in perfect health, albeit slightly depressed. _

_It might be due to the war. Many students are feeling it's effect now, which I hope this upcoming year, us professor's can change. Times like these, we need all the hope we can muster. But I cannot tell you what I gather from the Dark Magic Mr. Lupin was able to pick up on. It is true that things can be overlooked. Maybe you should have him checked up on it, but I wouldn't recommend it unless the issue becomes serious. There are too many dark wizards about, and with your reputation, it's not safe to admit him into a ward._

_I assure you, though, that when Harry comes back, that I, along with the other professors, will keep an eye out for the boy. We will keep you informed with anything that might be going on and affecting him in any way._

_My greatest apologies for not being much help in this case, Mr. Black. I will, however, do my best to help in the future if possible. I hope this letter finds you well,_

_Sincerely, _

_Albus Dumbledore_

Sirius sighed. Dumbledore didn't know anything about Harry either. _Well, _he thought to himself, _I'll just do my best for Harry. I'll do what I can to help him._

* * *

Harry was feeling down. It was the morning of his departure to Hogwarts, and the air in the house seemed to be darkened by the depressed mood's of both occupants. Sirius didn't want Harry to leave, and Harry felt the same. He wished to stay with his Godfather. He had just gotten back the man he'd seen die, and he wasn't about to just up and leave. 

The boy refused touch a single thing on his plate as they sat down to 'Sirius' seriously spectacular special' breakfast, as the man jokingly put it.

"Come, Harry. You have to eat," the man urged, trying to pile more sausages onto the plate in front of the boy.

"I'm not hungry," Harry said in a detached voice, shoving the plate away from him. "I'm just not in the mood to eat."

"You're _never _in the mood to eat, Harry. You're still a stick! Please, eat _something,_" Sirius whined loudly while pointing his fork at the boy. "Please?"

Sighing, Harry shook his head. "I wont keep it down if I do," he said quietly.

That caught Sirius' attention. "What? You wont keep it down?" When Harry shook his head, Sirius yelped concernedly, "Does that happen often? Do you usually throw up your food? How much can you keep down?"

Harry barely heard all the questions the man threw at him, "I can't keep food down if I'm upset. Alright? That's all. I'm fine, really. I'm not even hungry."

The older wizard seemed to deflate. "I'm worried about you, Harry. This isn't normal for a boy your age."

"Yeah," Harry muttered, "Well, I'm not a 'normal boy' as you put it."

"What was that?" Sirius questioned, having not heard what he said.

The boy sighed, "Nothing. I'm going to go make sure I packed everything. Alright?"

"Okay…"

Harry stood up and left the room, knowing that he had upset his Godfather. He felt bad, but he couldn't do anything about it. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't keep much food down. Blame Voldemort for that.

He double checked his room for anything he might have missed as he packed. When he figured he'd gotten everything, he snapped the lid shut on his trunk and trudged down the stairs with it. It felt odd not having Hedwig with him, but he figured she was with Neville now.

"I'm ready to go, Sirius," Harry called out as he reached the front door.

Said wizard came into the room, holding a pair of keys that belonged to his car. Harry was a bit unnerved with having to drive in a car with Sirius, but he shrugged the feeling off. It wouldn't be that bad, right?

"I'll get your trunk, Harry. Go ahead and get in the car. You have Trevor, don't you?"

Harry nodded solemnly and obliged, settling himself comfortably into the front seat while holding onto a box he'd stuck the toad in. He watched as Sirius lugged his trunk to the back of the car where he shoved it into the compartment. After what seemed like forever of struggling, the man was finally able to shut the trunk door.

"Have fun?" Harry nearly grinned as his Godfather sat down in the driver's seat.

"No, what did you put in that thing? It was heavy!" the man whined.

"Just a few dozen books, my clothes, and the usual. I think you're just weak. I was able to carry it," Harry said with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not weak," the other replied indignantly.

"If you say so."

After sending Harry a sour look, Sirius started the car and backed out of the driveway. That's about the moment when Harry began fearing for his life.

"SIRIUS!" Harry shouted as they zoomed past a car on the highway about twenty minutes later. "_Watch _where you're GOING!"

"I am," the man replied happily, quickly swerving into the middle lane. "See?"

"Slow the BLOODY HELL _down_!" Harry shouted, covering his face with his hands.

Sirius looked incredulously at his Godson. He hardly ever cussed -- actually, he didn't even remember hearing his Godson cussing. It was actually a bit funny in his opinion.

The whole scenario went on for a long time before they reached the station. Harry was more than happy to get out of the car, feeling as if he'd never be on his own feet again.

"Thank Merlin," Harry mumbled as he extracted his luggage from the back of the car. "I thought you would get us killed for sure out there."

"Do you have no faith in me?" Frowned Sirius, brushing hair out of his eyes. "I'm a good driver, admit it."

"For someone's who's _insane,_" was Harry's only response.

Pouting, Sirius led Harry towards where the barrier was. There was a large crowd of people around it, and Harry felt his heart leap when he noticed a group of redheads huddled over to the side. When he saw Ron, he wanted nothing more than to rush forward and greet his old friend, but he had to refrain himself. He knew seeing them again would be a bit painful, as he couldn't just talk to them like he used to. Suddenly, Harry felt as if he'd actually lost something since he'd arrived in the world where he wasn't The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"Something wrong, Prongslet?" Sirius asked, using the nickname he hadn't called Harry by for a long time. The boy looked up at him in surprise, causing Sirius to think he said the wrong thing, but to his relief, the boy broke out into a large smile; the first one in a long time.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just… thinking," he said, looking back at the group of redheads. He noticed then, that there were other people with them. Hermione was there, along with another boy with light brown hair.

That's when he realized that it was Neville with them.

But he hardly recognized the boy. The Neville he stared at now had more confidence. He was thinner than the one he was used to, and he held himself differently. He actually reminded Harry of himself. But the oddest thing about him was the oddly shaped scar running against the brown-haired boys right cheek.

Was that his scar?

"Come on, Harry. Let's go. You don't want to miss the train, do you?"

Shaking his head, Harry followed his Godfather towards the barrier. None of the Weasley's looked his way, although when he passed Hermione, she did a double take and a flash of concern was evident in her eyes when she saw Harry.

At the girls look, Harry just blinked slowly and turned away as she said something to Neville, who turned in turn to stare at him in turn. It wouldn't be any good for him to stare -- he'd just feel more of the loss.

He felt awkward then. He must look loads different from the Harry they were used to. Sighing almost unhappily, Harry followed Sirius still until they were at the train, vaguely wondering if his appearance really had changed so much.

"I'll miss you, Harry. I want you to owl me whenever you can, and if anything happens or if anything's bothering you, tell me, okay?" Sirius said seriously, hugging his Godson tightly after they had made it to the platform.

"I'll miss you too, Sirius," he replied. "I'll owl, don't worry. And I'll be fine, so there's no use in worrying about that either."

"I can't help it--"

"I know, I know. You're just worried," Harry rolled his eyes, having heard that loads of times before. "But seriously, I'll be fine. Just take care of yourself. Don't strain yourself over me, or work. And stay safe."

Smiling broadly at Harry, Sirius hugged him again. "I'm so proud of you, you know that? You remind me so much of your Father sometimes. He'd always tell me to be safe every summer while we attended Hogwarts. But you're just like your mom too. I'm so proud of you."

Harry allowed a smile to grace his face, feeling as if a balloon had swelled in his heart. "Thanks, Sirius. That means a lot to me."

Ruffling the boys hair, Sirius gave the boy a small push, "Now get on that train. It wouldn't do if you missed your ride, now would it?"

"No, it wouldn't. Bye Sirius!" Harry waved as he pushed his trunk up into the train. "Take care of yourself, and like I said before, stay safe!"

The whistle sounded then, and the students began to mill around, trying to get on the train. Harry backed away from the door and started to move through the train, trying to find an empty compartment to sit in.

There was a lot for him to think about, such as the upcoming school year. He had no idea of what he would do, since his role had switched. But all he could do was hope that life would be easier, and his life wouldn't change too drastically from what it was now.

But he could only hope, he thought, as he sat down tiredly in his seat. Once again, he felt drained of energy. Everything seemed to exhaust him nowadays.

Sighing, he rubbed at his face. _This is going to be one awkward year._

* * *

No one had come to visit him as he sat alone in one of the far back compartments of the train. It had been about an hour, and Harry was actually a bit relieved to not have to deal with anyone. 

He stared out of the window, watching the many trees flash by in blurs of green and brown as the sky began to darken and clouds overtook the arriving stars. He sighed, feeling oddly detached and cold in the small train compartment.

The boy rubbed his arms a few times with his hands, trying to warm himself up; it didn't help. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his thin arms around them in desperate attempts to trap heat against his body.

He didn't understand why he felt so cold. Almost amusedly, he wondered if there were Dementor's nearby, but decided against it as he didn't hear the terrors in his mind that usually accompanied the presence of the foul creatures.

The whole time he'd been on the train, his mind had been working nonstop. He wondered how things would be once he arrived at Hogwarts. How would the teachers treat him? What about all of the students? He also wondered what classes would be like.

Sighing heavily, Harry buried his head against his knees, messy black hair obscuring his features. He sat like that for quite some time before he heard footsteps approaching his compartment. He held his breath, unsure of what to do. What if it was someone he knew? Or, 'knew'?

A moments pause. Then the clicking of a doorknob turning, and the compartment door swung open. Harry didn't look up but peered out the best he could through his hair to see who had come into the compartment.

He saw a flash of brown, bushy hair before the voice of one of his dear friends spoke up, "Harry?"

Said boy grunted slightly, feeling his heart constrict as Hermione closed the door and took a seat across from him.

"Harry?" she repeated.

"Yeah?" he responded finally, lifting his face out of his arms to look at the girl. She looked the same as he had remembered her.

She bit her lower lip for a minute. "Harry, uhm, we -- that is, Ginny, Ron, Neville, and I, noticed that you aren't looking… yourself."

Raising an eyebrow delicately, he inquired slowly, "Really?"

Nodding, Hermione shifted a bit in her seat. "Did something happen to you over the summer?"

Harry nearly laughed. Leave it to her to be the first to show her concern and suspicion. The boy shook his head slowly, "I don't want to talk about it, Hermione. Okay?"

She gave him an exasperated look, "Why?"

"I just don't, okay?" he told her tiredly, allowing his face to fall back into the comfort of his arms. "I just don't."

Hermione didn't say anything for a long time. When she did, Harry cringed at the pity that seemed to drip from her voice. "Well, I suppose I'll be getting back to the others. I was just running my rounds on the train, and the others had said you hadn't showed up at all. If you want to talk about anything, we're here for you," and with that, she left.

Harry scowled. He hated the pity that he received from others. He had actually thought that since he wasn't The-Boy-Who-Lived anymore, he wouldn't have to deal with the emotions anymore. Maybe he was wrong.

Anger started building up but he tried to push it down. He didn't need to waste his energy by being in a foul mood. Harry took a deep, calming breath before he closed his eyes and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Review? Pretty please? 


	4. A One Way Ticket

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.**

* * *

A/N: I got two chapters up today, because there wasn't much of a change, and I'm hoping to actually get past chapter six for those who have already read this. Nothing much changed in this chapter. Just a few fixed grammar mistakes and two lines at the end. I'll get the next chapter up when I'm finished with it! Thanks for reading, guys. - Min

* * *

Preternatural

By: xScenex and Rubber Ducky Loser

Chapter Four: A One Way Ticket

* * *

The boy awoke suddenly as the door to his compartment was slammed open. Confused and disoriented from sleep, Harry looked around. It was almost dark outside and the overhead lights were on, swaying in motion with the train, and a light pitter-patter sounded against the train windows, indicating the weather outside had changed from fair to dreary. 

He blinked a few times to get the much needed sleep out of his eyes, then looked up to see who had abruptly came into his compartment, hoping it wasn't Hermione again. Although his vision was still fuzzy with sleep, he inwardly groaned as he made out the figure of Draco Malfoy, standing arrogantly in the doorway with his two cronies.

"Potter," he spat with his usual sneer on his face, although his eyes raked curiously over Harry's person, showing a bit of surprise about his physical state.

"Malfoy," he responded quietly, sitting up a bit straighter. "What do you want?"

Malfoy seemed a bit more surprised that the boy didn't cower back from his presence and Harry figured that, just like the Neville in his world, he was usually scared of the Slytherin.

"So you haven't killed yourself this summer I see. Pity."

"It is, isn't it," Harry replied almost emotionlessly, ignoring the dense chuckling from Crabbe and Goyle. "If you're only going to insult me, Malfoy, get out of here. Those childish remarks will get you killed one day."

"What was that, Potter?" he asked coldly.

"I said," the Gryffindor sighed wearily, "If you're only going to insult me, get. Out. Of. Here. Did you understand that time?"

Flushing an angry red, Draco whipped out his wand. "You shouldn't talk to your Betters that way, if you know what's good for you."

Harry uncurled from his warm seat regretfully, thin arms pushing his weight up so that he stood unsteadily on his feet, still feeling groggy. Ignoring the numb feeling in his legs from his hours of sitting, he flicked his hand, allowing his wand to fall out of its holster and into his palm. Holding the holly wand in his hand, he brandished it towards the hall outside of the compartment.

"Leave," he deadpanned, thin fingers gripping tightly onto his wand.

"What if I don't want to?" the blonde retaliated fiercely just as his two cronies pulled out their wands.

"I'll force you to leave, Malfoy," the raven haired boy growled, tired of the charade he'd put up. It only took so much before Malfoy got completely on his nerves. "Now go."

"You'll have to make me," Malfoy sneered, eyes flashing with arrogance.

Malfoy rose his wand just as Harry shouted out a silencing spell faster than could be followed due to his old Quidditch reflexes, efficiently rendering the blonde speechless. The Slytherin's eyes widened and the other two boys stared dumbly at their 'leader', unsure of what to do when they realized that Malfoy wouldn't be able to hex the Gryffindor.

"Want to leave before I do worse?" Harry snapped, holding onto his wand threateningly.

Malfoy glared at him but motioned for his fellow House mates to back out of the compartment. Sending the other boy one last fierce look, he stomped out and slammed the door behind him.

Smiling ruefully at his own temper, Harry sat back down in his now cold seat. He wondered if Neville had always had those problems with Malfoy, but decided not to think of it, knowing he'd just regret it later.

Harry sighed and traced a circle on the fogged up window next to his seat, the trees outside flashing by in blacks and dark greens. He was bored now, realizing it wouldn't do to just fall back asleep as they were almost at Hogwarts. Poking at the inside area of the circle, he made two eyes and a nose and made a squiggly line that almost resembled a frown.

Staring only momentarily at the deformed smiley face - or in it's case, frowning, Harry quickly wiped it away and began doodling again.

After half a minute, he had successfully drawn a very sloppy Grim. Smiling at the memories the small drawing brought to his mind, he sat back in his seat as the lights flickered a bit.

He was actually beginning to wonder what life was going to really be like for him. Would he really be 'just Harry'? Or would he be more or less than that? He remembered Neville from his world, and in all honesty, wouldn't have wanted to be in the boy's shoes.

Although Harry was a bit better off with some things, how _would _his life turn out to be? He hadn't kept much of an eye on Neville in his world, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to act around anyone else. It was almost nerve wreaking.

Just before he could work himself up anymore, a voice from overhead announced that they would arrive at the castle in less than ten minutes. Frowning in annoyance, Harry stood up again and struggled to get his trunk out from its compartment above the seats.

After a five minute struggle, he'd successfully retrieved a one of his school uniforms and a tie. He finished changing right as the train stopped at the station in Hogsmeade.

Students began milling out of their compartments and Harry joined in, trying his best not to get trampled over by the students who were taller than him.

Finally, after separating himself from the stampede of students, he trotted off through the light drizzle in hopes of an empty carriage. After a fruitless attempts of finding one void of occupants, a damp Harry set off in search of someone remotely friendly to share with.

With his luck - or without if you look at in in some ways, he ran into none other than Neville, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Luna. Five pairs of eyes swiveled onto him, staring mindlessly.

Harry glared slightly and cleared his throat, "Excuse me?"

They snapped out of their reverie and Ginny smiled slightly at him, having the decency to look slightly embarrassed, "Hi Harry, you didn't stop by the usual compartment on the train. Were you okay?"

Harry's eyes drifted over towards Hermione, where she was about to join Luna in the carriage. "I was okay. Do you mind if I share a carriage with you guys?"

"No, we don't mind at all," Ginny grinned and motioned for the remaining boys to jump into the coach and then gestured for Harry to follow her.

He let his eyes drift towards where the thestral's stood patiently, awaiting the signal to head up towards the castle. The creatures were just as vivid as ever.

"Harry?"

Shaking his head a bit, Harry looked up into the concerned faces of his supposed friends. "Sorry," he mumbled while joining the others in the dry compartment. He took a seat next to Luna and across from Neville.

Staring at the other boy, he realized the changes in him. He was no longer pudgy, but now lean and slightly fit, albeit at the point of losing weight. He had the upper body muscles that where probably from - to Harry's immense disbelief - Quidditch. He had a determined look in his eyes, plus a look of great sadness that Harry himself was quite accustomed to seeing in the mirror. But the oddest thing was the zigzagged scar on the boy's cheek; that had to be his curse scar.

Under the scrutiny he sensed, Neville turned to stare at Harry, his light blue eyes boring into emerald green. "Is there something on my face?"

"No…" Harry sighed and shifted to the side a bit, effectively taking his attention off the boy as light chatter filled the small, crowded space.

Simple to say, he was quite happy when the carriages stopped at the castle's front doors.

Harry was the first to get out of the coach, purposely ignoring the looks from the teen's he'd left behind as he hurried forward out of the cold. He was already always cold and standing there in the drizzle didn't help his poor body heat.

While walking, a few of his former classmates sent him odd looks which he ignored with ease. After being The-Boy-Who-Lived for most of his life, he'd gotten relatively used to it.

Walking into the castle, he felt the usual welcoming atmosphere and smiled a bit. He was finally home. Looking around, he saw that the Great Hall was just as it had always been, with its sparkling candles and enchanted ceiling. He let his eyes drift up towards the teachers table and felt a painful jab in his heart when he set eyes on Albus Dumbledore, alive and well.

Tears began to well up in his eyes which he hastily tried to blink away. It would be no use in crying over the past - and in the world he was now in, the Headmaster was alive. _Alive!_ It was all too good to be true - but if Sirius was alive, why couldn't Dumbledore?

He hadn't realized he'd had his eyes glued onto the old wizard until Dumbledore turned in his seat from talking to McGonagall and his eyes locked onto Harry's.

Harry felt rooted to the spot, stopping suddenly and causing a few students behind him to grumble in annoyance. He wasn't that far from the teachers table, having walked a bit over halfway across the Great Hall, so he was clearly able to see the expressions on the older man's face.

And to say they were surprised was an understatement. Concerned flashed across his face, attracting the other teacher's attention. When McGonagall looked over, she had a similar expression, as did Flitwick. He could see her lips moving furiously and Dumbledore said something in reply, but what was spoken was unknown to Harry.

Ducking his head down a bit, Harry ripped his gaze away from Dumbledore's and turned around to find a seat at the end of Gryffindor table. He just couldn't find it in his heart to sit with the other students.

When everyone was seated, McGonagall went to go fetch the first years from Hagrid, and soon, the sorting hat was brought out.

Harry was hardly paying attention until the hat began to sing its usual song.

_Oh, of all the blatant things to come,  
__This sorting hat knows all but one  
__Who resides in these walls of Hogwarts Founders,  
__Come from a place where all had failed,  
__Let us join in unity before we fall like before._

_Whether it be those from Gryffindor,  
__Those who are brave and true,  
__Who's courage wont waver unless subdued.  
_

_Or Let it be those in Hufflepuff,  
__So loyal and devoted,  
__Lending a helping hand to those they know._

_Possibly those who come from Ravenclaw,  
__So smart and full of knowledge,  
__Ready to use their logic in the world._

_It might just be those in Slytherin,  
__Who's cunning and ambitious,  
__Ready and willing to show what they're worth._

_We must gather and bond in this prestigious war,  
__Which will be the end of the end, or the end before the new beginning.  
__With the help of a newcomer, we shall prevail,  
__Let no darkness engulf our hearts, don't despair._

_So put me on, I'll sort you well,  
__For this year's outcome will be important as well._

The hall fell silent with a few bouts of clapping from some of the occupants. Why was the sorting hat so determined on House unity? He had remembered the previous worlds warning from the Sorting Hat, and it confused him. What was it hinting, exactly?

He hardly paid any attention to the sorting of the first years. He was rather miffed with that old hat for mentioning him - he knew it had to be him. '_Come from a place where all had failed'_. How obvious was that?

Finally, all the younger students were sorted into their respectful houses and the food cluttered up on the tables after a few spoken words.

Harry hardly touched his plate, still not feeling hungry. He picked a bit at his pork and nibbled on a treacle tart, but otherwise left everything else untouched. After a painstaking hour, Dumbledore finally stood up and made the usual announcements, including introducing the new Defense teacher; Professor Eliza Braubaker.

Harry stared at the woman - she had to be in her forties. She was tall, with dark brown hair with grey streaks running through it. She looked stern - almost as stern as McGonagall. She wore her hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck and had a small smile on her face.

Eventually, Dumbledore dismissed the student body to their dorms for the rest of the night.

Harry gladly stood up, feeling tired and a bit exhausted. The train rides always had a way of making him feel that way. He walked with the rest of Gryffindor out of the Great Hall, avoiding any eye contact from the teachers. He knew that they could easily break through his feeble, almost nonexistent occlumency shields.

After a long, draining walk up to the tower, Hermione told the students the password and allowed them all in, showing them where their dormitories were. Without saying anything to anyone, Harry made his way up to the seventh year's dormitory.

He nearly walked over to his old bed, but realized that his stuff wasn't at the end of it. He looked around, and spotted his trunk, and, Merlin forbid, box containing one very unwanted toad sitting at the end. Sighing to himself, he changed and lay down on the bed that was so unfamiliar to him.

He was beginning to really regret his wish in some ways.

But he knew, that no matter how life turned out - he was stuck. He'd taken his one way ticket to a place he'd _have _to call home.

And with his luck, things were bound to go amiss.

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Review? Pretty please with a cherry on top? 


	5. A Ferret's Insanity on Earth

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.**

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A/N: I decided to keep this note in here: 

Okay, so Rudulo (RubberDuckyLoser) and I have been writing this story, and most of you, or all of you, have no idea of the upcoming storyline. Allow me to explain a bit of what will be coming up: For those of you who like 'mysterious' and 'unknown' things, such as phenomenal objects, places, and other articles containing those words, might just like this story. Here are a few key words that will appear in the upcoming plot: The Bermuda Triangle, Gaia, The Sight, The Island of Tartarus (you wont know about that, more than likely, as it's pretty much made up), and I'm pretty sure you all acquainted with 'Angst' and 'Action/Adventure', no? Well, this story will be an interesting one to write. Any questions may be asked, and either I or Rudulo will respond in the best way possible. Also, I'd like to note that this story will more than likely become SLASH. I'm sorry if you don't like it, but it's just the way the story is going to turn out. If the majority of you have a problem with it, we may change it. And I think I would also like to point out here, that I want to thank all the readers. It's always nice to know that people enjoy our work! And thanks for all the positive feedback, guys. It's great. - Min, xScenex

Anyways, thanks for reading, guys. It means a lot to me and Rudulo.

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Preternatural

By: xScenex and Rubber Ducky Loser

Chapter Five: A Ferret's Insanity on Earth

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The first day of lessons dawned bright and early for Harry. When the sun stretched across the curtains of his four poster bed, sneaking into the tiny cracks and landing annoyingly on his face, Harry finally gave up trying to sleep. 

His sleep had been quite fitful, and when he did fall asleep, dreams and images flittered into his mind of Sirius falling and Dumbledore being blasted away from the tower. Once, he even woke up and swore he heard _'kill the spare' _echoing into the darkness of the room.

Harry curled up tighter in a ball, wishing nothing more than for his Godfather to be there with him. A few nights at Sirius' home, he had woken up screaming, calling Sirius to his room where the older man would comfort him.

But he was at Hogwarts now, with almost no actual friends and therefore, he had no one to comfort him. It was odd, really, seeing things in a different light. Thinking back, he realized that Neville had never had any genuine friends and just sort of went along with everyone and everything, going along with the flow of life. If he ever went back to his own world, things would definitely change, Harry had thought to himself sometime in the night.

After a while, the sounds of waking roommates filled the air, followed by mumbling, cursing, and stumbling. At least that hadn't changed. Harry's stomach growled a bit, but at the same time, twisted unpleasantly at his nervousness. He wasn't looking forward to the upcoming day.

"Neville, hurry up and get out of the bathroom," Harry heard Ron whining from somewhere to the right of his bed.

The muffled answer couldn't be heard by Harry, but it produced an irritable sigh from Ron. "Oi, Seamus, toss me that shoe over there."

There was an exasperated sigh and a loud thump, followed by a long sentence of cursing. It was obvious that Ron had just gotten hit in the head with the shoe. Smiling a bit, Harry buried his face against his blanket, which he'd pulled up to his chin. His stomach once again twisted unpleasantly.

"Hey, Harry, you up yet?" Dean called out.

Harry's only reply was a muffled 'yes', which seemed to satisfy the occupants of the room. The raven haired Gryffindor listened to the morning noises, content in lying in his bed until the last minute when everyone else had left. He wasn't feeling his greatest, so he was just happy to be unbothered.

But just as Seamus and Dean left, he heard someone call his name out and soon, his curtains were ripped away from the bed. Light blinded Harry momentarily, but his vision was soon focused and he saw Neville and Ron standing in front of his bed.

"Alright? You've usually gotten up by now."

"I'm fine," Harry replied, pulling the blankets away and sitting up a bit. His pajama shirt had somehow unbuttoned halfway during the night, showing just how skinny he really was.

When he caught the other two boys staring, he glared slightly and buttoned it back up before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"Aren't you two going to breakfast?" he asked sharply, his mood flaring up for almost no reason. He was beginning to hate his mood swings.

"We were going to wait for you," Neville said uncertainly, glancing from Harry to Ron quickly.

Harry just shook his head ruefully, his raven locks falling into his thin face and over his slender shoulders. "There's no use in waiting for me."

This caused the other two Gryffindor's to share a look. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Silence reigned in the room for another moment before Ron said, "Harry, what happened to you, mate? Seriously, don't say it's nothing because I've learned with Neville here that when you say nothing, it's actually something."

Harry caught Neville glaring at Ron and chuckled a bit - albeit darkly; this caused the others to look at him oddly, even if it was a little fearfully. "Believe me, you don't want to know."

"But -"

Harry looked up at Neville and Ron, an almost crazed look in his eyes. He didn't know what was going on with him, but suddenly, he felt as if he wanted to show them that there was something about him that shouldn't be taken for granted. Since he'd arrived in that world, everyone thought him to be a weak boy - but soon, he would make them realize otherwise.

He stood up swiftly, brushing hair out of his eyes and stared up at the two boys who were each a foot taller than he. He smiled ruthlessly, a faraway look in his eyes while thoughts of Cedric, Sirius, and Dumbledore flitted through his mind. "You don't want to know…"

Brushing past the boys, he quickly rummaged through his trunk and pulled out a fresh uniform and stalked off into the bathroom. Just before the door shut fully, he heard Ron mutter, "What the bloody hell?"

After taking a shower and dressing, Harry realized that he wouldn't have time to actually sit down and eat breakfast, but he would have enough time to get down to the Great Hall before schedules were passed out.

Grabbing his bag and stuffing his books into it, he went down into the common room and out the portrait hole. The halls were practically empty, and he had no run-ins on the way to breakfast.

When he entered the hall, students were just finishing up their morning meal. He saw professor McGonagall handing out the schedules and walked over to her.

"Morning, Professor," he greeted.

She turned to look at him, and he knew she was taking in his appearance, but he ignored it. "Mr. Potter."

"May I have my schedule please?"

She nodded briskly and flicked through the papers in her hands until she found his. She handed him the parchment, "I'll see you after lunch."

He nodded and turned away. He stared down at his list and cursed to himself - double History of Magic with the Slytherin's. _Is this day just trying to go against me? _Harry reprehended to himself, staring at his schedule a bit longer. Two hours in class with Slytherin's would be pure torture.

Sighing melodramatically at his luck, he adjusted the strap on his bag and shifted it so that he could place his schedule into the pocket on the side before heading towards the doors that would lead him up a flight of stairs and towards the classroom.

Upon arriving, Harry found most of the Slytherin's and some of the Gryffindor's sitting about in the room, creating a type of barricade as the teen's all sat on different sides of the room.

Harry took a swift glance about, seeing that the best place for him to sit unbothered would be in a seat between both groups. He took a seat near the back, placing his belongings on the floor and sighed.

He hardly paid any attention as the class began to fill up more, but he did notice when someone began to walk towards him. He looked up and inwardly groaned when he realized that it was Malfoy heading his way.

"Potter," was the first greeting he received as the blonde strutted forward, staring in disgust at Harry.

"Malfoy," he deadpanned, shifting in his seat slightly.

"I think it's time to get even for what you did to me on the train," Malfoy snarled, attracting the attention of a few nearby Slytherin's. From the other side of the room, a few Gryffindor's stared questionably at them, and a few looked angrily at the blonde.

"Not this again," Harry groaned. He wasn't really feeling up to the whole fighting thing as his stomach was still twisting unpleasantly.

"Scared, Potter?"

"Not really," Harry rolled his eyes in frustration. "Just annoyed."

Fury shined within Malfoy's eyes, showing hatred for his very being. The blonde Slytherin pulled his wand out of his wand and pointed it at Harry's face.

Harry tensed a bit, not really enjoying the fact that he had a wand in his face. "Please remove your wand from in front of my face, Malfoy," the raven haired boy said trough gritted teeth.

"Why should I?"

"If you know what's good for you," Harry began but let the threat go unfinished, so as to let Malfoy use his imagination.

The Slytherin sneered angrily, "And what would you know about 'good' for anyone?"

Harry shrugged a bit and knocked the other boy's wand out of his face, feeling anger boiling up in his chest. Even though his depression dampened his mood swings, he still couldn't help it when he did get angry.

"I thought so, Potter. You know nothing about life, living happily with that idiot Black. You wouldn't know anything about the issues going on with The Earth. You're in your own little world, happy and pampered," Malfoy spat heatedly, surprising Harry greatly. What was the blonde so worked up about?

"What does this argument have to do with earth?" Harry asked, confused.

The Slytherin grimaced a bit, and drawled arrogantly, "The Dark Lord will rule one day, and as long as It doesn't get in the wrong hands, you'll realize your place here. Then you will finally know what it's like for those on The Earth."

Harry stared up at the boy, face flushed with anger and confusion, "There you go with earth again. What the bloody hell does that have to do with this argument?"

The boy sneered nastily before putting his wand away and walking away, leaving Harry confused. Malfoy wasn't acting his usual self - he seemed… insane. He had been babbling about earth and it's meaning. And what was that about it getting into 'the wrong hands'? Was he talking about Dumbledore? Or maybe even Voldemort?

The whole lesson passed by, leaving Harry confused and bewildered. Many of the Gryffindor's who'd watched the exchange stared at him but he just ignored it all, and doodled absentmindedly on his parchment used for notes.

By the end of the lesson, the only thing Harry had succeeded in doing was giving himself a headache, which he knew would last for the rest of the day unless he took something for it; but he didn't want to go ask the school nurse for anything, in fear of being examined for other things with the way he looked.

The boy sighed and headed off to Herbology, knowing that the day would just get even more complicating and confusing.

After all, he was suspected to be a wiz at Herbology. Oh boy…

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A/N: Definitely one of the shorter chapters. I tried to find a way to lengthen it but I couldn't think of anything to slip into the chapter. I hope you guys don't mind. Please Review! I'll love you forever if you do. On another note, I'll get the next chapter up sometime this afternoon.. or today at some point. After that - it's the new chapter that hasn't been read by the old readers! Yay! Maybe.. just maybe if I feel like it, I'll put the seventh chapter up today? What do you say? 


	6. Thunder Before the Lightning

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.**

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A/N: Once again, not much was added. Just a few spelling mistakes fixed, and a sentence or two added. I'll get the next chapter up soon, since I _know _you're all waiting eagerly for it, as this was where the other story left off. Has anyone else been having trouble with ff dot net? Stories wont show up for me, and I've been having log-in troubles. I don't know if it's something about my computer, or something else. Anyone know:o Now onwards!

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Preternatural

By: xScenex and Rubber Ducky Loser

Chapter Six: Thunder Before the Lightening

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That following night, Harry found himself up in the Owlery after curfew, writing a letter to Sirius. He was feeling quite depressed, confused, and angry all at the same time, and he didn't understand, which only succeeded in making him even angrier. He didn't know why, exactly, but his constant run-in's with Malfoy weren't helping his mood, nor where the looks he continued to receive from fellow students or teachers. 

After signing his name on the bottom of the letter, he searched out one of the school owls and sent the letter off into the dreary night.

Harry leaned against the Owlery door, staring out into the curtain or rain that fell heavily from the sky. He didn't now what to do anymore - school was definitely something he wished he could get away from. He used to love going to Hogwarts, but realizing now that Hermione and Ron weren't his friends made him feel like he were missing something huge in his life. They used to be the one's he counted on every year to be there with him; now they were gone.

Nothing was the same as before. In his old life, Sirius, his parents, and Dumbledore were dead, and war had already hit a high note. But in his current life, that was all changed. Voldemort hadn't made a huge move yet - which actually made him wonder what the wizard was up to. He was only ever quiet in his activity if he was planning something, and that usually wasn't a good sign.

Sighing heavily, the boy shifted a bit and stared around him. The owls were active, hooting and darting about restlessly, wanting to fly out in the night but unwilling to get wet from the rain. He vaguely noticed a familiar white owl up in the rafters and gulped down the tightening in his throat. He couldn't dwell on things that just weren't meant to be there. Hedwig was no longer his, and he had to deal with that.

Just as he dealt with everything else.

After a few more minutes of just standing in the doorway, the boy decided to head back inside before he was actually missed. He pulled his invisibility cloak over himself before heading off down the staircase and into the building.

The halls were dark, as was usual for the middle of the night. His footsteps echoed quietly around the walls as he walked down one of the many staircases that resided inside of the old castle.

After about fifteen minutes, Harry found himself turning a corner, only to hear voices coming from the far end of the next hall. He ducked behind a suit of armor, hoping that he wouldn't be caught by Filch or Snape.

As the voices got closer and the light from a _lumos_ charm became visible enough to make out features, he realized that it was Dumbledore and the new defense teacher, Braubaker.

"Albus, I just know that's what You-Know-Who's after. It's the only possible thing," the woman stated.

"Eliza, I understand what you're saying, but we have no proof that he's got a student doing insider work for him," the older wizard stated tiredly. "We really don't have the evidence."

"Yes, but Albus, you must realize that it would be a Death Eater's child-"

"We have no proof of that, either," Dumbledore cut in.

"But it's obvious!" Braubaker exclaimed, waving her wand around a bit and casing eerie shadows around them, "There's no one else who'd be willing to do it."

The Headmaster sighed and Harry watched as he ran a hand over his beard, "Alas, even if that was true, we couldn't hold a child against their will for questioning without parental permission. The only thing we can do is try and find Gaia's Mirror before Voldemort can get his hands on it."

Harry strained his hearing, trying not to miss anything spoken by either of them. What was it that Voldemort was after?

"Then you must send out men to find it immediately! Gaia's Mirror is a dangerous artifact that will bring destruction if You-Know-Who gets a hold of it!"

Gaia's Mirror? Harry listened intently once again.

"But," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "We have no clue to where the mirror is. It could be anywhere - the only thing we have that could lead us to the place are a few scattered clues in the library. Otherwise, there is nothing. In all my years, I have never stumbled across information of the whereabouts. It was hard enough finding out about the object itself. Obviously, it wasn't meant to find, Eliza."

"But He will find it if we don't," she said fearfully. "We can't let Him get it!"

Harry had to take a few steps closer to hear the rest of what was being said as the two professor's walked to the end of the corridor and Dumbledore mumbled, "We only have a matter of time before we find out who will get it."

Harry took in a deep breath, realizing he'd been holding it the entire time. What was that conversation about? What was it that the new defense teacher said Voldemort was after? Gaia's Mirror?

It didn't sound familiar to Harry. Obviously, it was like in his first year with the Philosopher's Stone. Only - he knew by instinct that he'd never heard of that object by anything, especially by a chocolate frog card.

Chuckling lightly to himself at old memories, of how ironic that whole situation in his first year had been, he started walking again down the corridor, being careful not to get too near the distant footsteps of the two professors, whom he guessed had just headed up a flight of stairs. Turning to the right, he headed up a different staircase that had just planted itself firmly after shifting position so that he would find him in the corridor that led to the Gryffindor Tower.

By the time he made it into the warm common room of his beloved House, it was empty, all except for a House Elf who had just popped out of sight at the noise of the portrait opening. Harry vaguely wondered if the elf was Dobby but banished the thoughts as soon as it brought a wave of sadness over himself.

Plopping down into an overstuffed armchair near the fire, he stared into the flames, his mind weary and working a mile a minute.

He still wasn't adapting as well as he'd hoped in his new home. When he had lived at Sirius' during the summer, he'd thought it would be better because of how life was then. But since he'd been thrust back into Hogwarts, where all his worries seemed to reside, he realized that things weren't what he had thought.

How did Neville put up with it? Being made fun of, having been looked down upon, and having no friends there to comfort him? Harry wished more than anything that Ron and Hermione would rush down from their dormitories and engulf him in their old conversations.

But he knew it wouldn't happen. They weren't his friends - never again would they be the same as they had once been. Making his wish that night at Aunt Petunia's was one of the most tragic he'd ever made - in gaining so little, he lost so much.

Sighing heavily, he placed his head against his shaking hands. He felt tears prickle at his eyelids but he held them back. There's no use in crying over spilt milk, right?

But it was so hard - all his life, he'd felt alone but was never truly by himself; now he was. He was completely lonely, with only a missing toad as his companion and that hardly helped the fact. Not that he wanted the blasted toad to be there…

Steering his mind away from those thoughts roughly, he forced himself to think of what he'd overheard the new Defense teacher and Dumbledore talking about.

So Voldemort was after something - something that obviously held power. But since when didn't Voldemort go after something that could more than likely do worse harm than he?

Harry wanted to laugh out loud, but kept the bubbling mirth inside. He didn't want anyone to overhear him and think him to be insane - although, that wouldn't be a first. Hadn't he been declared insane in his fifth year by the Daily Prophet and many of his peers?

But that hadn't happened to him in the new world. All that had happened to Neville and not him.

Not him…

He couldn't hold it in anymore. He felt like he was loosing his mind. He let out a loud, riotous laughter and clutched onto his hair in attempt to stifle the amusement with pain, finding it more and more hilarious as the seconds ticked by. The sound seemed loud in his ears, and oddly not like himself.

But he couldn't help himself; everything he had known himself to be was now gone. He wasn't 'just Harry', he realized. He wasn't even Harry anymore - he was Neville from his old life. Harry James Potter was gone. In his place was a man who had been stripped of all he had grown up to be.

Harry was so caught up in his sardonic amusement that he didn't hear when someone stepped down from the boys staircase. He continued to laugh, albeit quieting considerably as the reality was starting to slowly fade back into place, fighting to rid of the cloudy illusions that played in his mind. Was he going crazy?

Before he could think further, he heard someone cough lightly and his head jerked up to see the frightened and unsure face of Neville - the last person he wanted to see.

They stared at one another for a moment, Harry's chuckles finally dying out into the silence, despite the crackles from the nearby fire.

In that time, Harry took in the new Boy-Who-Lived's appearance once more. It was obvious he hadn't slept well as of yet, as large, dark rings surrounded his eyes and his skin looked pale and clammy. His hands shook with well hidden emotions, and Harry only guessed that he'd had a vision.

"Er- Harry?"

Focusing his attention back on Neville's eyes, he inquired, "Yes?"

"W-was that you, down here just now?"

"Do you see anyone else?" Harry spat irritated, waving exasperatedly around the room.

This only caused Neville's face to cloud over with an unknown emotion as he shook his head unsurely. Harry realized he must look and seem like some St. Mungo's patient who'd lost his mind. And in a way, he felt he had. The reality of the situation was pressing into him - he felt as if he'd suffocate from it. And the worst part of this all was that it had been his choice to take such a road.

"Can you believe it?" Harry asked, more to himself than to Neville. "So ironic, really…"

Neville stepped back a bit, still confused but Harry dismissed the fact as he wasn't even looking at the boy anymore. He pressed his fingers together, and sat facing a blank spot in the wall opposite of him.

"It's changed now," he continued, "changed in ways I'd never believed possible."

"Harry…"

"And it's all because of me!" he laughed loudly. "Me! Always me!"

"Harry, you're acting cr-"

"What? _Crazy_?" he stood up so suddenly that it startled Neville. He whipped around so that his back faced the roaring fire and his face was plunged into dark shadows. "This whole place is _crazy _Neville. The whole lot of it!"

"Harry, I think you need hel-"

"No!" Harry spat once more, brushing hair out of his face and for the first time that night, he realized he'd been crying. His cheeks were wet with the tears he'd never known had fallen. He stared at his damp hand, wondering when he'd started weeping. Why was he crying? He knew he was stronger than that…

"Look, I'm going to go get McGonagall. You need help," Neville stated and backed away slowly with fear in his eyes. What the fear was for - Harry's sanity or his own safety - he didn't know.

Harry grabbed roughly at Neville's shoulders, shaking him thoroughly and nearly shouting, "They can't do anything to help me! No one can-"

"Let go of me!" the boy tried shrugging Harry off him but the bony fingers gripped tighter, showing strength that he himself hadn't known he'd possessed. "I said, let go!"

Suddenly, Harry found himself on the floor with a heavy body above him and the side of his face throbbing painfully. He lay there, dazed and a bit disoriented for a bit until he realized that the weight had lifted from him and a person stood above him.

Neville was on his feet, breathing heavily with a raised fist. He backed away slowly as Harry tried to get up but quickly sunk to his knees as his weight gave way.

His ears rung from the force of the hit against his face and his eyesight was a bit unfocused. He looked once more at Neville before his head dropped and he cupped his face in his hands.

Reality was once more closing in on him and he'd realized his actions. He truly felt as if he were going insane. He didn't want that - and it was his own fault for falling into the insanity that assaulted him. Or maybe it was his Aunt's, he thought bitterly, remembering that it was her who had given him the object that granted his one wish.

He wanted that object back now, to get home. He wanted to go back to his old life, his old friends. He wanted to go back to what he knew and _understood._

"I want to go home," he mumbled, rocking forward a bit to stop the aching in his chest. "I want to leave here, I want to go home."

He wasn't aware that Neville had disappeared. He rocked backwards seconds later, his hands sliding away from his face and into his hair. He stared at a ink stain on the rug in front of him that he'd vaguely remembered from his own world.

"I want to go home," he repeated, louder this time. He continued to say that until he was nearly shouting it, his mind settling into final shock as his body only responded in constant rocking movements.

That's how McGonagall found him moments later, followed closely by Neville and a few students who had woken up - those that included Ron, Hermione, and Ginny; his former friends.

Oh, how he wanted to go home.

But that was only the beginning… a cross storm of light and sound, where the thunder sounds before the lightning strikes; nothing but utter chaos.

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Review? Please? Anyways, thanks for reading guys. The next, unread chapter will be up soon! Maybe even today, but who knows. 


	7. Painful Accusations

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.

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A/N: Here it is - hope you all like it. Please review and tell us what you think. : D

Italics: dream sequence

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**Preternatural**

By: xScenex and Rubber Ducky Loser

Chapter Seven: Painful Accusations

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**Meredith Vanhazle sat in her portrait, weaving a piece of cloth that she hadn't found use for yet. She just wove and wove, eventually finding a meaning for the material. That's how all her best garments came out. 

She was an older woman, aged about forty years in the portrait, though she were more than a couple hundred years older than that. She was a hearty woman, who loved children and talking about any subject that seemed to interest her or her host.

The woman in the portrait smiled as she continued to knit the blue yarn-like material but frowned slightly when she caught wind of some noise in the room that her portrait overlooked. Craning her neck a bit, she peered out, seeing from above the fireplace mantle.

She caught sight of the dark blobs of two figures, and she instantly recognized them as the sweet boy that would talk to her on nights he couldn't sleep, and the other boy who was so fond of Herbology.

From the look of things, they were bickering or something along those lines. She watched as the lighter haired boy named Neville backed away, shadows and light flickering on his face. She hoped that nothing too drastic was going on in the Gryffindor Common room.

She would have tried to stop it, but she had learned long ago that portraits were not to meddle with wizarding affairs. Her poor friend Rosery had been set alight by one of those cursed teenagers years back after trying to break up a Gryffindor's fight. Now, Rosery's portrait hung in the corridor before the steps to the astronomy tower, far away from any teenagers wand.

She looked down at the blue cloth in her lap and continued knitting, occasionally glancing in the children's direction. She noticed that things seemed to be heating up a bit, and she could now hear the voices loudly over the roaring of the fire.

"They can't do anything to help me! Nobody can-"

"Let go of me!"

Meredith's head jerked up just in time to see Neville strike the other boy across the face with his hand. She screamed aloud, dropping her knitting.

What in Merlin's name was going on down there? She'd never known either of those two boys to fight each other.

She continued to watch in frozen horror and fascination as the one known as Harry tried to stand up but failed, and instead settled on yelling something about 'going home.'

"My Stupified Merlin…" she whispered to herself, covering her mouth with one hand. If she didn't know anything, that boy down there had lost his gobbstones.

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

Suddenly, her attention was drawn to the figures that had just flooded into the room, and to her immense relief, she saw the Head of House. What was her name? McDonald? For some reason, Meredith thought that was wrong.

"What's this about?" the woman asked sternly, her eyes darting from Harry to Neville.

"He just - flipped!" Meredith's sweet little Neville spoke with a shaky voice. "I heard someone down here and came to see who it was, and he was acting weird-"

"Weird?"

"He was laughing… it sounded like something you'd hear from… from _Him._ And he was babbling nonsense before he attacked me!" the boy exclaimed, and the smart girl with the pretty brown hair and her red haired knight walked up to the boy.

Meredith didn't have to strain to hear what was going on - they were being loud enough to wake the dead, she mused.

"He attacked you?" the girl cried out in surprise.

"Harry did?"

She watched as Neville nodded his head a bit. Everyone's focus landed on Harry, who was still rocking slightly while shaking his head. His yelling had stopped, but the portrait lady was quite sure the young man was still talking under his breath.

The stern professor walked up to the crouched boy, "Mr. Potter."

He didn't respond, and for a moment, the woman in the portrait thought he'd ignore her, but suddenly, he began once again, giggling riotously.

"I want to go home. I don't care if I have to fight Him, I want to go home," he laughed, shaking his head. "Please, I want to go home! Take me home-"

She watched as the professor stepped back and drew her wand. "Mr. Potter, please calm yourself or I'll be forced to stun you."

The boy continued to shake his head, "I don't care! I want to go home! HOME!"

That was the last he said. She watched sorrowfully as the teacher had to stun the poor boy.

The students mumbled and whispered to one another and Neville was sent to fetch someone - more than likely Dumbledore. Meredith picked up her blue knitting once more as Harry was levitated and floated out through the portrait hole.

"Well," she said to herself, "this will be news in the morning."

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_There was humming somewhere in the background, the sound faded but at the same time, crystal clear. It was a light, melodious tune that made him want to smile. _

A bright, artificial light shined from somewhere above, blinding but not overly hot, through a low canopy of green. The sound of roaring water sounded nearby, accompanied by the tinkling of more water - as if it were dripping from somewhere and landing in a puddle. Even that sounded artificial.

He blinked and walked forward, his fingers brushing against something - leaves? He wasn't sure. Everything looked so surreal.

There was a path - winding and twisting delicately and he felt as if he were going in circles. Everywhere he looked was the same thing, over and over again. He had no idea of where he was, but he felt like he could stay in that tranquil setting forever.

"Harry."

He blinked and turned around, catching a flash of pale hair through the green. The swish of a cloak and the rustle of leaves. He turned around again when the sound came from behind.

"Come on, Harry. We need to hurry."

He felt compelled to follow and took a few tiny steps forward, stumbling over an unseen rock. He stumbled and flung his arms out for balance - a hand grabbed his upper arm to stop him from plunging headlong into the reeds and plants that hid a well veiled pond.

"Are you always so helpless?"

The voice was close to his ears, and he wanted nothing more than to look up at whoever was there with him. He struggled to stand upwards with balance, but just as he turned to see who had helped him, the person took off and by the time he had turned fully around, all he caught was a glimpse of a dark cloak disappearing into the greenery…

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"Uhn…" 

His head hurt. Harry felt sore, and he was cold. She shivered and took in a deep breath, feeling it hitch in his chest from lack of complete oxygen from his sleep.

Harry struggled to open his eyes but felt that they were too heavy and gave up. His mind felt muddled and he couldn't remember what had happened the day before. He vaguely remembered what had happened in class, and something about wandering about after curfew, but that was about all he knew.

For some reason, he felt as if he'd been renewed - something had happened and he knew it. Whether it was rejuvenation in his sleep, he couldn't recall. Dreams were never something he could easily remember.

He shifted a bit and realized that he wasn't in his bed in the Gryffindor seventh year dormitories. The sheets were thinner, scratchier. Almost like the ones in…

Shooting straight up in the bed, Harry wrenched his eyes open, only to be blinded by the whiteness of the Hospital Wing.

He winched visibly and blinked a few times, trying to get accustomed to the brightness and failed to notice someone sitting next to him.

"Harry," they said quietly.

His head whipped around and popped loudly, causing him to winch. When the stars faded from his vision, he realized with a jolt that it was his Godfather who had spoken - Sirius.

"Sirius?"

The man nodded slowly, his eyes slowly raking over the boy. He looked unsure - as if Harry might jump forward any moment and attack.

Eyebrows knitted together as Harry finally realized something. "Why are you here, Sirius?"

"Better question-" he replied, shifted slightly in his seat and waved his hands around the hospital wing for a moment. "Why are _you _here, Harry?"

That made him think. Why _was_ he in the hospital wing? He felt fine, and he couldn't recall being sick or getting hurt.

"I…" he paused and once more tried to think of a plausible reason, but it still didn't come to him. He finally gave up with, "I don't know."

The man shook his head a bit, sorrow showing on his face. Harry was definitely confused.

"How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Fine, I think," he answered, sitting back against his pillows and staring at his Guardian. It wasn't the truth, but it wasn't a lie.

"Ah, he's awake," said a brisk voice from the left of Harry. He jumped slightly and turned to face the medi-witch, Madam Pomphrey. "When did he wake up?"

"Just now," Sirius provided.

"Good," the matron said, "Mr. Potter, how are you feeling?"

"Er." He didn't really know what to say to her. He felt confused and a bit tired and worn out, but he figured it was nothing different from the ordinary. He was afraid of her knowing he would lie if he said he was completely okay, but he set his luck. "I feel fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I feel like I usually do," he said, his eyebrows raising in question.

She blinked for a moment and grabbed a clipboard from the end of his bed. "How do you usually feel?"

"A bit tired, I guess. But otherwise, fine."

She nodded and scribbled something down on a piece of parchment on the clipboard. "Have you been feeling any different lately?"

Harry shook his head, "No."

"I see," she looked at Sirius, then at Harry. "I'll be back in a moment." And with that, she turned on heel and walked away.

After watching her go, Harry turned to Sirius. "Sirius? What's going on?"

"Well…" he started, his eyes darting around the room a bit. "You see - I got an owl from Professor Dumbledore-"

"Dumbledore? Why would he owl you?" Harry interrupted, completely confused by what was going on.

"Let me finish," his Godfather hushed him, "I received an owl saying that-"

He didn't finish, as someone _else_came into the ward. Both dark haired men turned to look, and saw none other than Albus Dumbledore himself. How ironic.

Harry's heart stopped in his chest. He couldn't be around the Headmaster. He simply _couldn't. _That man had a way of knowing everything that went on - and he wasn't keen in letting the old man know that he was from another universe.

"Good afternoon, Harry," the wizened man greeted.

Harry mumbled, "Afternoon, Professor."

"How are you feeling, today?"

Harry felt annoyed, "How many people are going to ask me that?"

"Now, now, Harry, m'boy. It's only natural for people to worry," Dumbledore said with a slight twinkle in his eyes, but his forehead was creased with frown lines.

"I don't need people to worry about me," Harry mumbled, crossing his arms across his chest and once more leaning back against his pillows. "I don't see why anyone even bothers."

Sighing heavily, the wizened man said, "Harry, do you remember anything from last night?"

Harry shook his head, curiosity getting the better of him despite his foul mood.

"I thought so." He shot a look at Sirius from over Harry's head, but he caught it nonetheless, "If you recall anything, please allow one of us know. I will return have a word with Poppy before I leave. Good day to the two of you."

Then Albus Dumbledore left the room as quickly as he came, leaving Harry and Sirius alone once more. Everything was moving so fast he felt as if he wouldn't be able to keep up.

Harry pondered a bit on why he was there. Did something happen to him? He honestly couldn't remember what had happened the night before. Everything beyond returning to the common room was hazy, and he only recalled a bit of color and some voices.

His curiousness soon turned into worry. What if something had happened to someone else? Or worse… what if he had done something to someone? He knew his mood swings had been getting the better of him lately, and it worried him to no end. That worry began transforming into fear.

"Why am I here…?" Harry asked slowly, his voice shaking slightly as something flashed through his mind. A face - fear, and confusion.

"Well…"

Harry turned to Sirius urgently, "Tell me why I'm here!"

"Last night, you attacked a student," his Godfather said eventually, allowing the words to filter into Harry's mind.

"A-Attacked?" Harry saw Sirius nod. "I-I attacked someone? Who?"

"You attacked Neville Longbottom."

Harry's head spun in confusion and disbelief. He attacked Neville? "Is he okay?"

"He's fine. You got the worst end of it, I think." Sirius chuckled a bit, but it was just to hide his true feelings on the situation, "McGonagall ended up having to stun you in the end."

There- another flash through his mind. Everyone stood taller than him. Fear, confusion once more. A stern face; commanding something. A flash of light…

"I-I don't remember attacking anyone," he stated truthfully. "Why would I attack Neville, of all people?"

"Harry," Sirius said, eyes avoiding his. "Ever since you came back from school before the summer, you've been acting strangely. I thought it was just a change in you, but well… I'm beginning to worry. I don't want to scare you-"

"Scare me? Sirius, I'm fine! There's nothing wrong with me," Harry stated incredulously.

"Look," he said sternly, looking straight at the green-eyed boy. "Poppy said that there might be something wrong with your mind - nothing she can't fix, I assure you," he added quickly, seeing the look of anger on Harry's face. "But she thinks that something might have happened that struck a nerve and it's effecting your mind somehow."

"I'm bloody fine!" Harry shouted, "How the hell could you say that I'm… I'm mental!"

The man sat up straight, his face becoming stern, "Harry, you will not speak to me like that."

Harry glared up at him, "Yeah?" he spat, angered at the sudden change of feelings in the room. "Who are you to tell me what to do?"

"I'm your Godfather," he responded gently, albeit with authority.

The Gryffindor turned away from the man, "But you're not my parents," he mumbled and instantly felt bad at the look on Sirius' face that he caught out of the corner of his eyes.

"Even though I'm not James nor Lily, I'm still your guardian," he said stiffly. "Whether you like it or not."

Harry's head dropped and his hands instantly covered his face. "Sirius… I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that…"

"I don't want to hear it right now, Harry. Poppy will be back to test you. You will allow her to do it without complaint, you hear me?"

Harry didn't respond and he didn't receive any other response. After an agonizingly long minute, he realized that Sirius had left.

He was alone; alone once more.

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A/N: So what did you think? Good? Bad? Iffy? 


	8. Playing Pretend in Gryffindor Territory

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.**

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A/N: Okay. This chapter is not to my liking at all. You may realize why soon. When Rudulo gave me the paper with the chapter info on it, I was slightly disappointed with it, and I told her so and she said she may re-write it. Until then, we will have to deal with this. I really don't like the ending. At all. Like, hardcore dislike. I just hope you all don't dislike it as much as I. And also, I really don't like what's going on with the nurse. For a note to those who don't know - I don't have ANY idea of what is happening in this story - I only know the basic things. I only write the chapters after the plot info has been given to me. So I can't tell you why Poppy is acting the way she is, and hopefully, it's not because she was just OC. I asked Rudulo about it, and she said there was a reason behind it, so please… just bare with this. - Min

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Preternatural

By: xScenex and Rubber Ducky Loser

Chapter Eight: Playing Pretend in Gryffindor Territory

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"Just once more, Mr. Potter."

Groaning, Harry sat up fully, his sore body protesting angrily against the movements and his mind a bit muddied from all the drugs given to him. He picked up the instrument that Madam Pomfrey held out to him. It was a tube of sorts, that he had to blow into. It reminded him slightly of an asthmatic breather.

"On the count of three," she said, holding the tube up at an angle so that he could breath into it, "One. Two. Three."

After he had run out of breath, Harry sat back on the pillows, breathing in heavily, a lingering metallic taste in his mouth. As he lay back against the pillows, the matron took her wand and tapped it twice on the side of his neck.

He felt a cold sensation run through his jugular vein, and his pulse felt as if it pounded fifteen times faster and harder. He could feel his fingers twitching convulsively, but he had gotten used to the side effects of that particular spell. The nurse had only done it seven times in the past two hours.

After a few moments, she scribbled again on a piece of parchment. Harry stared warily at her, hoping she had nothing else to do to him. He'd been in the hospital wing for two and a half hours, being tested and prodded, poked and stung by various objects.

"That's all for now," she said, smiling thinly at him. "You may rest for a while - don't get out of bed. If I catch you doing otherwise, you'll find yourself chained down, you hear me?"

Harry nodded, used to the many threats the medi-witch used against her patients. He wanted to just rest anyway. His body ached from all the tests used on him.

He rolled onto his side on the bed, feeling abnormally small on it. He didn't bother covering up, finding no strength or will to do so. He just wanted to lay there and fall asleep, never to wake up again.

But alas, that wouldn't happen. Fate was far to _kind _to allow that. So he just lay there, his mind reeling from what he imagined had happened the night before, mingled with the flashes of what he could remember. He saw his Godfather's face after Harry's accusation.

Remembering was too painful for him to actually linger on it all. He tried to push it out of his mind, but it wouldn't work.

Harry sighed. Him and his temper; him and his desires. If he hadn't been so selfish in the first place, he thought, nothing of the sort would have happened.

He tucked his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. Staring at the blank white curtains of the bed next to his, he continued to think, trying to pull his thoughts through the fogginess in his mind. What would he do after he got out of the hospital, when they realized that nothing was wrong with him? But… what if there was something wrong with him? He had to admit, his behavior of late was beyond his usual nature.

He heard some footsteps and figured it was the nurse again. He inwardly groaned - more poking and prodding.

After a few moments, he didn't hear Madam Pomfrey say anything. He turned his head to look and see who it was and he caught sight of Malfoy, walking into the Hospital Wing while cradling his arm.

He didn't see Harry at first and continued to walk, until he sat down on a bed a few over from his but when the blonde looked up, his eyes narrowed.

"Potter."

"Leave me alone," Harry muttered, letting his head fall back to where it originally was. He stared at a blank spot on a nearby curtain, but his vision clouded as he became slightly lightheaded from the residing fumes around his bed.

"What's wrong, Potty? Did you finally _crack_?" the other boy smirked at his own wit.

"Actually, no," the Gryffindor replied dully. "It just appears that way."

There was a bit of silence before Harry looked over to the other boy, his eyes narrowing slightly to try and see clearly. His glasses had become askew after turning his head.

His attention focused on the blood that trailed down the other boys arm, and he grimaced at the sight as his stomach churned a bit. He'd never liked the sight of human blood much.

"What's wrong, Potter?" spat Malfoy, noticing the stare.

Harry grimaced at the boy, "I should be asking you that. Let me guess, you got a little too close to Gryffindor territory?"

The others face flushed angrily, "You wish."

"Why would I? You've done it before and I have no reason to want to see the results again," Harry almost laughed at the look of indignation that spread across the Slytherin's face.

"Shut up -"

"What's all this noise?" Madam Pomfrey was back.

She bustled into the room, looking from boy to boy then shrieked at Malfoy, "What in Merlin's name did you do to your arm? Kid's these days!"

The nurse went up to the angered boy and promptly pulled his arm to her, causing him to cry out in surprise.

"Ow, woman! Be careful!"

"Don't talk to me like that, Mr. Malfoy. We've been through this routine too many times, so don't act like a spoilt child."

"My father will he-"

"Hear about this, yes, I know," the woman said irritably. "Everyone in this school knows. You only say that every time…"

Harry watched the exchange with amusement. Malfoy was getting disgruntled and annoyed, he could tell, as the medi-witch continued to mess with his arm, albeit a bit roughly. She was muttering under her breath, and shot him a few looks clearly saying that he was next after her examination on the Slytherin.

Groaning, he sat up a bit, readying himself for the next onslaught of potions and healing - or torture, depending on how you looked at it - spells. He continued to watch as the nurse thrust a potion into Malfoy's hands, scolding him on his behavior.

After about five minutes, Harry became bored and stared down at his hands. He mused on how thin they looked, and how pale they were. It was funny, he realized, that whenever you're bored and trying to take your mind off things, you realize things you never did before that just put your mind on other things that were unpleasant to ones self.

"Mr. Potter," a voice called out. "I want you to take this potion," something was thrust into his hands before he even had the chance to look up. "Take all if it - I'm watching you, you know."

Harry swallowed a frustrated sigh before downing the entire vial of potions with a grimace as the intoxicating smell filled his senses. "Shouldn't there be a limit to how many potions you can give someone before they die from some kind of overdose?" he asked sardonically while handing the bottle back to the nurse. He didn't even know what the potion was.

Her face contorted into a look of unease but it was quickly replaced by annoyance - but Harry saw the look. And he knew; she wasn't supposed to be giving him all those potions - at least not in the time she had been. But the nurse he'd known from his world had always been so careful with her patients. She would never allow them to overdose.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Malfoy shift himself off the bed he had been sitting on and he walked out of sight, presumably out of the wing. He focused his eyes on Madam Pomfrey's. "From what I gather, too much ingestion of magical substances can cause harm to someone, or make them pass out in the least," he said with feigned arrogance, using only what he thought was right as his knowledge. He honestly didn't know what the truth of the matter was, but he didn't like the look the nurse had had previously.

The woman placed her hands on her hips and scowled down at him. "What are you on about, Mr. Potter? I'm a trained nurse - I know what's good for my patients and what isn't. What I am giving you is perfectly safe - plus it will help sedate you for the last test. You can't be awake when I scan your head for any problem- "

"But all these potions in my system can't be good for me!" Harry practically yelled, his frustration getting the better of him.

"Don't tell me what to do, Mr. Potter."

Harry slipped off the other side of the bed and walked around it, despite the loud and angry protests from the witch.

"Get back in bed," she shrieked, "Mr. Potter, I will get the Headmaster here if you do not do as you're told!"

"And what? I'll just tell him about all the potions you're giving me," he growled out, keeping his balance despite how hazy his mind and body felt. "It's got to be against the rules here. You could easily just put me to sleep by giving me a sleeping draught, not all those bloody pain killers."

She opened her mouth to protest again, but Harry was off before she got a single word out. He walked forward, annoyed and greatly irritated until he swept out of the door.

The halls were deserted - it was obvious that everyone was spending their afternoon outside for the weekend in the nice weather. Harry only wished he could do the same.

After almost fifteen minutes of walking, Harry mumbled under his breath a bit as he staggered slightly in the hall and had to prop himself up against a wall before his vision would settle back from the spinning vertigo that plagued his eyesight.

With his back against the wall, he slid down so that he was now sitting on the cold, stone floor. He felt exhausted and overly drugged up. What did that nurse think she was doing? He could tell by her reactions that she was either giving him those potions under other orders, or she had lost her own mind. The nurse would never do something like that - even if told, Harry mused to himself. Things weren't right - either that, or this world's nurse was just a crazy old bat.

After a bit of calm silence, he remembered his thoughts of her being ordered to do something like that. His mind hurriedly flipped though his memories, trying to pinpoint any that might tell him who might have ordered her to do so. It just didn't make any sense…

The only people he _remembered _talking to the medi-witch had been Sirius and Dumbledore.

But he could trust them, right?

He shook his head and stood up, heading towards the boy's bathroom that lay across the hall. Upon arriving, he walked up to a sink and turned on the cold water tap. A bit of cold water on his face was enough to wake him up a bit.

He sighed. He had wanted a break from being the Boy-Who-Lived, but that wasn't happening. Now everyone seemed to think he'd gone mental. Harry leaned heavily against the sink's lip, looking up into the mirror.

His reflection stared back, holding just as much anger as he felt inside. He stared for a long time, his mind still clouded over from the potions. He was feeling the way he had that night in Dumbledore's office in his old world, when Sirius had fallen through the veil. He just wanted to get his hands on something - anything, and destroy it; he wanted some control in his situation.

He shut his eyes tightly, gripping onto the edge of the sink. He shook his head - that wouldn't do any good. Everyone would just think he'd lost his sanity even more. But maybe… just maybe, he thought, he was. It was an amusing thought, really. Boy-Who-Lived, actually insane. That would make great Headline in his old world.

He let go of the sink and paced a bit. He needed to sort things out. Last night - what had happened to him? What had driven him into such a state that he couldn't even remember what had happened?

He only remembered bits and pieces of the incident that had taken place in the common room, but it was enough to gather information that no one had provided for him. He grimaced a bit, realizing that none of the adults would ever tell him anything that was going on. It was just like before, but back then, he had Hermione and Ron to confide in…

Harry's head snapped up and his eyes lit up. Hermione! He could ask her for help! If what he needed to know involved research, she would definitely be ready to help. Or, he only hoped she would.

He turned on heel and walked out of the bathroom, wondering where the girl would be. She could be in the library, or the common room working on homework, or she could be out on the Hogwarts grounds with Neville and Ron.

He scowled a bit but shrugged a bit, letting his thoughts go back to what was at hand. He walked quickly through the halls, ignoring the talking portraits and shifting suits of armor. He was pretty sure his little escapade was well known by all in the castle and he didn't want to dwell somewhere where he would be confronted about it before he could figure anything out.

Too much was happening, Harry realized, in such a short time for him. Falling into another world was one thing. Hearing about something that Voldemort was after was another. Hearing that he was going mental - a bit too soon for him.

He gave a rueful smile. Maybe if he went crazy, he wouldn't have to worry about anything. He nearly laughed at the images that provided for him in his mind.

Harry was so lost in his thoughts by then that he didn't realize that another group of people were walking around the corner of the corridor until he walked right into someone.

Falling to the ground, he cursed himself for not paying attention. He grunted an apology and looked up into the red face of Ron who stood in front of him with Neville, Seamus, and Dean.

"Er…" Harry stared at each of them in turn before saying slowly, "Hi."

Ron's ears were a crude red color now, "Don't think you can just say 'hi' to Neville after what you did to him last night!"

Harry's eyebrows rose at his exclamation. Looks like he had run out of luck long ago. "I was speaking to everyone, Ron. Not just Neville."

He made a face at Harry, who in turn, saw the uneasy look on Neville's face.

The brown haired boy didn't look Harry in the eye, but said warningly, "Ron.."

"Neville, he tried to hurt you yesterday!" the redhead shouted, pointing at Harry. "Are you just going to let him get by with that? You don't even let Malfoy get off on things like that!"

Harry slowly stood up, brushing dust off the back of his robes. "Maybe you should listen to your friend, Ron," he said, more anger surging through him. He still hadn't calmed down from his other mood swing.

"Don't tell me what to do, Potter! I'm not the insane one here!"

By then, Neville had grabbed the back of Ron's robes with Seamus and the two were attempting to pull the angered Weasley back away from Harry, who stood in front of them, looking murderous.

"Insane?" Harry nearly shouted, his own face reddened with anger. His fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to hex his old friend. "What would you know, Ron? You don't have anything to worry about - you have your family! You have your friends! You don't have some bloody madman after you; so don't _you _call _me_ insane! You have no idea what it's like - no idea at all!"

The trio of Gryffindor's looked taken aback.

"Harry," Neville said, looking quite alarmed. Harry realized that he was probably scared of him attacking again. "Ron didn't mean that - he's just… just a bit worked up, that's all."

Harry's mouth snapped shut and he turned his gaze on Neville. The other boy stared back, determined not to look away. Ron was still trying to get loose from the other boys' grips, but he hadn't succeeded as of yet.

Harry eventually let out a long sigh, feeling completely defeated in more than one way. "Look, Neville. I… about last night…"

"Don't worry about it," Neville said offhandedly, remembering Harry of his own fourth year when he had spoken to Cedric after the first task.

"No," Harry pushed, running a hand over his face. "I don't know what happened, okay? I had a lot of things on my mind last night and I guess I couldn't handle it anymore. I'm sorry that I tried to hurt you - I have _never_ had any intentions on hurting you."

The others looked slightly disbelieving but they took his apology - or, Neville did.

"Don't worry about it," he said again. He motioned to the others, "Come on, we need to go to the library."

And with that, the other boys walked off, casting glances at Harry's turned back.

Harry in turn, sighed and took a few steps forward. He knew a simple sorry wouldn't get him anywhere, but it _was_ a start. He rounded the corridor without incident that time, and continued to walk down the hall, his mind no longer on where Hermione might be.

He remembered what he had said to Malfoy earlier that day in the Hospital Wing. And mused to himself half heartedly.

_Harry_ was the one that had just gotten a little too close to Gryffindor Territory; and that wasn't something anyone would want - especially if it involved one Ron Weasley.

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A/N: Try to be nice with the flames. :D And thanks to all who reviewed last time. 


	9. Oh No's and What's

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.**

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A/N: Okay, to be completely honest with you, I'm pissed off about this story. (Sorry about the language, but it's the only way to express how horribly angry I am) It's not the story itself that I'm mad about, it's my pen-pal writer, Rudulo. To be simply blunt, I'll just tell you that she's abandoned the story because of an argument we had. So now, it's in my hands to finish this up and I have no earthly idea of where this was going. So I'm going to improvise. If you have any ideas, please feel free to leave them in a review. They'd be much appreciated.

And someone asked what the title of the story meant - the definition (directly from the dictionary) is: 1. Going beyond nature: exceeding what is normal in nature (formal or literary) 2. Supernatural: supernatural or uncanny (literary) Encarta ® World English Dictionary © & (P) 1998-2004 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

Thanks to all who has continued to read this story, and to all of those who had read it. I'm so sorry about the long delay. I just hope that I can provide a good storyline - and I know this chapter sucks hardcore, but please try not to maul me. Critisism would be much appreciated. (I haven't written much in a while, so my writing is off by a bit. -sigh-) - Min

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Preternatural  
By: xScenex

Chapter Nine: Oh No's and What's

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The day passed on and Harry didn't find any sign of Hermione. Where could one girl hide in a place like Hogwarts, when he knew most of her normal hiding spots? It just didn't make any sense!

Eventually, tired and worn out from the long adventure of searching the castle, Harry found himself sitting down on a large boulder by the lake. The sun was setting and streaks of orange and gold lay spattered against the pastel sky. He stared up distractedly, his hair swaying around his face in the breeze.

He vaguely noted that it felt nice outside. The weather he remembered was always stifling, with either heat or with fear. There was no end to the discomfort in the atmosphere. But he liked how the air tasted now - he had no worries. The burden of the war was not placed on his shoulders.

But after a few moments, Harry realized that he had something else to worry about - the fact that everyone thought he was mental. His thoughts wondered back to that day at the infirmary. Why had Madam Pomfrey acted so strange? And what did his Godfather and Dumbledore have to do with it? He knew that there was something odd going on with the three adults and he was desperate to find out.

Harry shook his head and reclined back on his elbows, ignoring the scraping of the rock against his flesh. He was at the point where he didn't care - what was a little bit more hurt? No one would think twice if they saw the scrapes - he already looked like a wreak. He knew it. They knew it.

He shook his head, his eyes closing momentarily. His lips twisted into a small smile, "I'll be damned if they didn't."

"Who are you talking to?"

Harry stiffened. The voice was familiar, but he couldn't place it. Who was it? He opened his eyes slowly and turned around while answering, "No one."

His eyes landed on pale grey ones with a distant look to them. It was Luna Lovegood. She gave him a mocking smile, "But I did hear you speaking to someone. Unless the Ruosenots are here; they are tricky and sometimes get into others minds and mimic them aloud."

Same old Luna. Harry felt amusement bubble up in his chest. "And how do we keep them from mimicking us?"

Luna gave him an odd look, "You know, no one has ever asked that. But daddy said in his article that wearing a necklace of pickled peppers will keep them away for a while."

"I see," was Harry's only response to that. "So what are you doing out here?"

"The same as you. Watching the sky. I think it's pretty."

Harry nodded slowly and turned away. "Have a seat, then."

A few minutes passed by after Luna settled herself awkwardly on the boulder next to Harry. She kept fingering the butterbeer cork necklace that hung around her neck. The boy noted that she looked the same and acted the same, from the wand stuck behind her ear to the very odd creatures she spoke of. He found comfort in the fact that she was herself.

She turned to look at him, her faraway and dazed look leaving her for a small moment. "You're different."

Harry's face turned sour, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not our Harry. You're Harry."

"Uh. Sure"

"I know your secret, but I wont tell."

"You… you know?" Harry stared at her unsurely. Did she really know?

"Of course. The adults think your just having a mental breakdown but I know that's not it. So what happened to the other Harry?" she gave him a lopsided smile and Harry noted that her voice was not derisive.

The Gryffindor sat up and faced her. "You're not joking, are you?" She shook her head. Harry felt relief spread through his body. "So I can trust you, right?"

"Of course. Even the Ruosenots wont be able to get me to tell anyone about you."

Harry breathed out heavily and slumped over. Why couldn't he have spoken to Luna earlier? He knew he could trust her.

"I'll be honest with you, Luna. I have no idea of what happened to the other Harry," he said slowly.

"Oh. Will he ever come back?" she asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

The odd change to her voice caused Harry too look up at her. "I… I'm not sure, Luna."

"Oh," her eyes were unfocused. "Well that's alright. He always told me that if something happened that he wanted me to be happy. It's just like with what happened to my mother."

Harry held his breath. He'd heard from his Luna that her mother loved messing with experiments. He felt a connection with Luna because of their small speech before he left the castle last year in his world, and her talking about her mother was something considered sacred between them.

The girl continued, all the while messing with her necklace. "She told me as well that if something happened to her, that she wanted me to be happy and to stay with papa. Then she disappeared after that experiment. I wonder where she went?"

Harry stared at her, unsure of what to say. He couldn't just say that she probably died in an explosion, although that was the most likely thing to have happened. He gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I bet wherever she is, she's looking out for you."

"Oh, she is," Luna smiled slightly. "I wonder if Harry is, too?"

"Were you and… and the other Harry good friends?" he questioned slowly.

Luna shook her head, "No. He was my boyfriend."

The boy nearly jolted away from Luna. It came as a complete shock that his other self had dated her - not that she was a bad girl. He had just never thought of Luna in any other way but as a friend. But then again…

He calmed down slightly as he thought back to how Neville acted around Luna. There was definitely something going on with them… and since his other self was supposedly just like the Neville in his world, maybe…

"Ugh…" he rested his face in his hands. "Luna, I…"

"Don't worry," she stated matter-of-factly. "You're not like the other Harry. You're not my boyfriend; I feel no connection between us. Although your aura seems the same, you're too depressed."

"Really?" Harry asked, ignoring the part about the depression and she nodded. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Nothing against you, Luna, but I've only ever seen you as a friend."

"We were friends?"

"Yeah," he told her, looking back up. "We met in fifth year. And I'm glad we did - I'll never regret it."

Both of the students smiled at one another. They sat in silence for a while, and soon, twilight was upon them. Harry listened as the night creatures took up symphony and sung their night song that wove into the wind. Luna sat as well, looking up into the stars.

There was comfortable silence between them before Luna asked Harry randomly, "What happened to you? I doubt the Heliopaths had something to do with it. Unless you've angered the minister."

"What do you mean?" he asked, unsure of what she was asking.

"You look sick," she stated bluntly. "You're too skinny and you don't eat. I've watched you not eat - I noticed it the first night you didn't show up for our discussion of the Warnopolius'. And you are too depressed."

Harry turned away from her, "If you saw what I did, you wouldn't want to eat either. I can't help the way I am, alright?" For a moment, he wanted Luna to just go away but after a moment, he realized that she was his only outlet.

"But you can help yourself, you just haven't tried."

"If you saw people die like I did…"

"Oh, I've seen it," she cut him off as he trailed his sentence into quietness. "I see the thestrels, but you have to accept that death is the balance of life. If we didn't die, then we couldn't live - we just wouldn't fit here on the Earth. It's rather horrible, but we have to just go with it."

Harry didn't say anything to her words. He knew what she said was true, but why did all the good people have to die first? It just didn't seem fair. He shook his head slowly before something clicked into his mind.

"Luna!" he jumped up from the boulder and lent over, grasping onto her shoulders. The girl looked quizzically at him. "You mentioned the Earth! Do you - I mean, that is, have you ever heard anything about an item called Gaia's Mirror?"

She looked blankly at him for a long moment. Then she replied, "My mother told me once about it. It was like a bedtime story."

"Please, you have to tell me all that you know," he told her urgently. If Hermione couldn't tell him, then Luna could. He knew something was up, and as soon as he figured out what that mirror was for, he would be able to start cracking down on what was happening at the school.

"Well," she cleared her throat and ran a hand through her long, dirty blonde hair. "I have some notes on it from a long time ago when I went through some of mama's old books."

"Could you show me?" Harry asked, interest flaming into his mind.

"It's a bit personal," Luna said sadly. "But I can tell that this is important, so I can show you. I have some of it right here," she pulled a book out from her pocket. Harry thought at first that it was just a small, pocket notebook but when she opened it, it proved to hold more pages than he would have thought. "This is the book that I keep with me with the most important things in it."

The Ravenclaw flipped through pages for a while until she stopped. She scanned the pages herself, then handed the book to Harry. "Read that page, and the next one."

Harry took the book unsurely and began to read the neatly placed writing, his hands shaking slightly.

_Document 1: Gaia -- The Earth. The prosperous land, green and luscious for leagues. Those tall mountains, so high in the sky that they touch the very heaven's that are forbidden until the afterlife. Water -- stretched across Eve's land for as far as the eye can see. Gaia is home to all living creatures. Created after chaos, she provides peace to all who dwell there but was soon cast away into an ancient artifact; she was said to keep all humanity in check with this object. It reflects life. But with life comes death, and soon, Tantalus brought upon a new item to balance the Earth. Gaia and Khaos have been chosen. _

_Document 2: They perished in their greed and were taken to Tartarus to live the rest of their lives in 'a place of the underworld' to redeem for their sins. The only clues to where they have been taken by the Greater Chosen lie in these words: "Across the vast blue cold and into the perilous red abyss - find us where the sand burns like fire's of hell and the burning God forsakes us." _

Harry looked up, his eyes swimming with confusion.

"Luna, what does this mean?"

"Don't you get it?" she asked melodiously.

"No, I don't. What's this about Tantalus, Khaos, Tartarus… What are the Greater Chosen?"

She shrugged lightly, "All I know is that mama thought highly of these documents."

"Do you know who the people mentioned in the second document are?"

Luna shook her head, "Mama did, though. She told me in the story that there were hundreds of them. They were taken away, one by one to serve time in the 'place of the underworld'. They're never seen again, of course, but that's because the Dolumens wont let them out of the palace."

Harry was completely lost, but he stored all the information to the back of his mind. "Do you remember the story, Luna?"

"Of course I do. Would you like to hear it?" Harry nodded and she smiled. "Alright. Sit down and I'll tell you."

Harry sat down across from her, in the grass this time. The sky was dark now and the only light around them was from what was reflected from the lake. "So?" he asked eagerly, looking up into the girl's face.

She waved her hand slowly, as if telling him to be patient. She began in a distant, melodious, "Well, mama said to me while tucking me in that when the Earth was once new, there lived a civilization of men and women known as the Civilians.

"The Civilians were given their life by Gaia and soon they made life of their own. Gaia loved her children and all they provided, but soon, they were taking too much of the space - they began burning her nature, drying up her water and polluting the air she offered. So the Greater Chosen sent Tantalus to equal the balance of the Civilian's."

"Tantalus is…?" Harry interrupted her.

"Tantalus is death, really," she told him keenly.

"So Gaia is life, and Tantalus is death? Is that the balance?" Luna nodded at his question. Harry motioned for her to continue.

"Gaia did not like the idea of Tantalus taking her children away from her, but the Greater Chosen had sent Tantalus on a mission and he never backed out when it came to an order. He stole the children from her day and night, leaving Gaia distressed and angry. The Earth rumbled with her fury towards the Gods and the sky darkened with Tantalus' determination to do what he was told. When, eventually, the world was in complete destruction from their distress, the Greater Chosen came down on their own.

"They were not happy, mama said. She said that they were mightily angry at them, and cursed them for their behavior. They said that since they could not do as they had be chosen to do, they would be forsaken to spend eternity in a object. That's how the artifacts came to be. Mama said she didn't know what the names were, but from what you said and what the documents say, I'm guessing that one is Gaia's Mirror."

Harry stared at her for a minute then nodded. "I believe so too. I.. I overheard someone saying something about it. Do you have any idea of what Gaia's Mirror can do?"

Luna shook her head. "She never told me what would happen if someone got a hold of the artifacts. But if they're guarded by the Dolumen's, they must be powerful."

"What are the Dulumen's?" Harry stumbled over the foreign word.

"They're creatures," she told him. "They're a bit like unicorns except that they aren't nice. They're huge and they could step on you."

Harry snorted slightly. "That's nice. Hagrid would like them."

Luna smiled, "He would. Maybe I can get my father to do an article on them for you."

He shook his head, "There's no use in going all out on this. But I appreciate it."

She nodded and looked up at the sky again. The silence settled between them once more, and Harry finally realized that dinner must have been over for a while now.

"We should be getting back," he told the Ravenclaw girl after a few minutes of listening to the waves of the lake splash against the shore near him.

"I guess. But I like it out here; it's more calm than inside the castle."

"I know," Harry sighed. He didn't really want to go back himself. He didn't feel like going back up into the common room, where he was bound to be on the receiving end of stares. Plus, he knew sleep wouldn't come to him that night, so it would be useless to try. "Someone's bound to come looking for us soon, though."

"We better go in at different times," Luna said. "They might think sometimes going on."

"You go first then." Harry told her. He wanted to make sure she made it inside safely.

She got up, her long skirt swishing against the rock, and bid him goodnight with a smile. Harry watched as she jumped down and started to walk down the grounds, humming something all the while.

The boy got up as well, but didn't start back. He stared at the retreating back of the girl and felt a sadness for her. How did she really feel about the other Harry being gone? She must have been confused and unsure… but she dealt with it well enough, he realized. But still…

"Luna?" he called out to her. She turned around but continued to walk. Harry knew she was listening. "Just so you know… I'll do my best to get your Harry back."

He couldn't see her expression from such a distance. There was a stretch of silence and just as he thought she hadn't heard him, she called out, "I'll be waiting."

And she disappeared into the darkness.

Harry sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. He was slowly learning more, but the more and more he found out about Gaia's Mirror and the world he was in, the more he hated it. Maybe his old life had been better…

Eventually, he set off to the castle, his mind filled with fears and questions. But the night would not be over for Harry.

Because _He_ awaited the boy's return.

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A/N: Wow. This was so. Hard. To. Write. Hate me, go ahead, you know you want to. I can't believe I even succeeded in writing such a short, crappy chapter! Without any idea of what is going on, and having to make up my own plot, this is going… okay. Lets just say I'm putting a lot of thought into this, but things are getting a bit muddled. I don't think the original plot had anything to do with Luna, but I like my idea of what's coming up.

What did you think? I know it sucks, but besides that, how do you think the plot's turning out?


	10. Two in One Go

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine. **

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A/N: I think my ego has grown slightly. So much positive feedback has me giddy at the moment. Everyone's encouragement and guidance has really helped me out. Special thanks go to those who were kind enough to help me out with understanding my story (You know who you guys are).

Anyways, this will more than likely be the last update until next weekend - I work all week and I'll be too tired and exhausted to write anything until Friday or Saturday. Sorry about that, guys. I've gotten really into this story, so more than likely, I'll be plotting the upcoming chapters in my mind all week.

**Thanks to **Cherri202, hittocerebattosai, Deep Red, HarbringerLady, Jenniyah, enchantedlight, I-Y-T-Y, KikiLala, The Wandmaker, Lily's Secretkeeper, Kail Ceannai, funkmasterjo, choco-crush, 00mrdragon00, illachi, over-mist, Blaise le poussin masque, Anave Lipad, Lyla Snape, DaughterofDeath, StolenDreamer, Unicorn'sWhisper, and Queen of Monkey Magic **for the wonderful reviews! **

_twoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonego_

Preternatural

By: xScenex

Chapter Ten: Two in one Go

_twoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonego_

_Previously: _

"_Luna?" he called out to her. She turned around but continued to walk. Harry knew she was listening. "Just so you know… I'll do my best to get your Harry back." _

_He couldn't see her expression from such a distance. There was a stretch of silence and just as he thought she hadn't heard him, she called out, "I'll be waiting." _

_And she disappeared into the darkness. _

_Harry sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. He was slowly learning more, but the more and more he found out about Gaia's Mirror and the world he was in, the more he hated it. Maybe his old life had been better… _

_Eventually, he set off to the castle, his mind filled with fears and questions. But the night would not be over for Harry. _

_Because _He_ awaited the boy's return. _

_twoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonego_

Harry walked slowly up to the front doors of the castle. His mind was now nothing more than a whirlwind of confusion as his mind kept racking up different conclusions to what the Mirror of Gaia was.

Luna's mother's notes had said something about Gaia and Khaos, and Luna herself had told him that Gaia was life and Tantalus was death. They had both been turned into objects… so did that mean that Gaia's Mirror wasn't the only one Voldemort was after? Does that mean that the adults, such as Dumbledore, only knew of one? If Gaia was one, does that mean that Khaos was the other?

Harry scratched at his head slowly, mulling the idea over in his mind. It made a bit of sense, but it was kind of hard to accept in his mind. He wished that Luna was still there with him; he needed someone to speak to about it.

He pushed the doors open enough so that his thin frame could slip through without making too much noise. The castle's interior was dark, as most students had gone up to their dormitories by now for sleep or to finish up late homework assignments.

Harry looked left and right, making sure the coast was clear. He saw no movement through any of the halls, so he started forward, his light footsteps sounding like small clicks through the corridor he turned down.

There were a few torches still lit, but he knew that once Filch came through the hall for his night inspection, they would be turned out. He was lucky to have made it back in before the man had made his rounds.

Sighing tiredly, Harry hurried along the halls. He was now feeling quite tired. His mind was drained from too much thinking and he had a slight headache. But he ignored it, knowing that it wouldn't go away for a while yet, and there was no way he'd go to the nurse for something to help it.

He shook his head as the mere thought of Madam Pomfrey. What had been going on that morning? He had no idea of what was happening with the adults, but he was determined to find out about it.

Harry wondered for a slight moment if the adults thought he was a complete mental case. What Luna had said earlier - _'The adults think you're just having a mental breakdown…'_ Just having one? Harry snorted with amusement. Was he really that horrible when it came to being himself?

Harry didn't think there was too much wrong with himself. Yeah, he knew he was too skinny and thought too much on the issues at hand. He had a hero complex, sure, but what was to be expected from someone like him? He'd been in the dark most of his life, afraid that horrible things would happen to him and people around him at the slightest thing done wrong. He just couldn't help it.

And what did Sirius think of him now? He hadn't spoken to his Godfather since their argument, and he was worried. Should he send him a letter, apologizing again? Or would it be best to just ride it out until his Godfather came back to see him?

_If he wants to_, Harry thought bitterly to himself while rubbing his eyes sleepily. He wouldn't blame the man for not coming back. He'd been a real arsehole that morning to the man and it was only natural to hate him. He felt his eyes prickle momentarily at the thought that Sirius hated him. Sirius was all he had family wise to count on, and it was a blow to his exhausted mind to finally think that he would be loathed.

He rubbed angrily at his face then, forcing himself to stop acting childish. So what if Sirius was mad? If he was going to be angry at Harry for that, then let him be. He'd get over it, right?

Right?

And what about Luna? How did she feel about her Harry being gone? He knew that she was accepting with the supernatural, but she was human. How did she bear the feelings of loss?

But she didn't hate him, that was a plus. Sighing heavily, the boy shook his head. Everything would eventually get better. He just had to straighten it all out.

Harry felt a bit doubtful, but decided to stop thinking such things. He needed some sleep before he really did have a breakdown right then and there in the middle of the hall.

The Gryffindor turned a corner, still desperately trying to ignore the small doubts in his mind. He was nearing the Gryffindor tower, and barely noticed when someone stepped out of the shadows in front of him.

After taking a double take, he stopped in his tracks.

"You're out late, Potter," came an icy voice. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck raise at the voice.

"So are you," he stated stiffly. He tried to peer into the darkness, but the face of the stranger was concealed. The voice was familiar, too familiar for his liking.

"You look a bit pale," the stranger stated in a tone of obviousness. "Maybe you should go see the nurse."

"Malfoy," Harry ground out in hate. The arrogant attitude finally clicked into place.

"What's wrong? Scared the Nurse will give you more potions? You need it, Potter. You're nothing but a mental case here. They should ship you over to St. Mungo's right now, I say."

"I don't give a bloody fuck what you think, Malfoy," Harry growled, feeling a deep stab to his heart. He hated being called that - he was not insane!

The other boy stepped out of the shadows and was mildly surprised, Harry could see. But a spark of mischief came into Malfoy's misty eyes. "Since when did you grow a backbone?"

"Since I got sick of your shit," Harry told the Slytherin, his voice hard.

Malfoy sneered, "You've got a foul mouth, Potter. You better watch what you say."

Harry shook his head. He was cranky, he'd admit that. But he was tired and exhausted, and dealing with Malfoy right before bed wasn't on his top ten to-do list.

"What do you want?" Harry asked with annoyance lining every syllable.

The blonde walked forward a bit. His face was shadowed with the flicking light of a nearby torch. "I want to know what you know, Potter."

He was surprised, to say the least. "What I know?"

"Don't act stupid," Malfoy ground out. "I want to know what you've overheard the teachers talking about. I saw you that night, listening to Dumbledore and that new defense teacher. And you and that Lovegood were talking about something out there. I watched you. I know that you know something."

Harry felt his skin prickle at the thought of Malfoy eavesdropping so easily on him. He thought he had trained himself to keep an eye out for things like that.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he stated calmly.

Malfoy grimaced angrily. He moved forward, grabbing Harry's shoulders with a vice grip. "Don't lie to me. Just because you've gotten more guts, I wont put up with it. Tell me what you know."

Harry's shoulders ached with the grip, but he kept his face straight, although his body tensed. His eyes narrowed and dulled in color.

"No."

Malfoy gave a frustrated yell and slammed Harry back into the wall, efficiently pinning him against it. The Gryffindor felt the cold stone scrape against his back as he was pushed. He hissed in pain as dots of white danced in his eyes and the air in his lungs was forcibly knocked out.

"Potter, I'm giving you one chance - tell me what you heard and what you know, or you'll regret it for the rest of your life!"

"Why should I tell you anything?" Harry uttered as he pressed weakly against Malfoy's chest with his thin hands, trying to shove him away. It was no use though and the boy let his hands drop to his sides after a few moments. He couldn't fight the boy off physically.

The Slytherin's face was twisted angrily. "Well?"

He pulled Harry's body towards his momentarily before slamming him hard against the wall again. This time, Harry let out a cry of distress and struggled against the hold with all the strength he could muster while reaching into his pocket for his wand.

Malfoy noticed this and used his knee to pin the hand against the wall as well. His hands slid down to Harry's upper arms, holding them against his sides so that he couldn't try getting his wand again. Harry continued to struggle for a few more minutes, but the Slytherin's hold only grew tighter.

"Why are you doing this?" Harry felt his body weaken against the other boy's grasp. If he didn't have such a hard grip on Harry, he was sure he would have fallen over. He breathed heavily, almost laboriously from his efforts.

"Potter, I have to know - what did you learn about the mirror?" Draco hissed.

There was a moments silence, the only noise heard being the arduous breathing from the dark haired boy and the sizzling cracks from the torches.

"I don't know much," Harry eventually ground out between breathing.

"But you know something," he whispered, his face inching closer to Harry's. Their eyes locked and Malfoy glared down at the shorter boy. "What have you learned?"

Harry stared up, unsure if he should answer. He couldn't get out of the situation. Would it be best to answer? Or to lie and try to get away? But he knew that Malfoy's family was dark - he couldn't just give information to the enemy.

"I wont tell you," Harry told the other boy. "I wont allow you to win this."

Harry stared intensely at the Slytherin. His face was set as stone and his eyes were narrowed angrily. They stood, silent, for half a minute more.

Harry's arms throbbed and ached. Harry decided to break the silence, "If you want to know about it, you can't just force it out of me."

"Potter--"

"No, Malfoy," Harry interrupted angrily. He shook a few strands of hair out of his face before continuing. "You can't do this - you can't force someone to do as you want. I wont tell you what I know and you can't make me."

"Oh yeah?"

Harry nodded stubbornly, his jaw set to determination. He was tired of being walked on in this world. He needed to show them that he wasn't a weak boy.

The other boy's eyes were hard with fury, and he pulled back away from Harry roughly. The movement was rough enough to cause the raven haired boy to fall to his knee's before he had time to brace himself.

"I'll find out, Potter," Malfoy whispered venomously. "One way or another, you will tell me."

With those last words, the Slytherin walked away, his school robes scraping against the stone floor. Harry watched him go, utterly lost.

That was one of the oddest run-ins he'd ever had. Malfoy hadn't even tried to curse him! That in itself was unusual.

Shaking his head slowly and propping himself up a bit with his shaky arms, he sighed. He wasn't ever going to get used to the people in this place. Every time he thought he had them figured out, they'd do something that would surprise him.

Minutes later, Harry pulled himself up from the cold floor and continued on his way to the Gryffindor common room, even more fatigued that before. It didn't take him too long to get there without any more incident, and he was grateful when he found that no one else was in the common room.

He paused after the portrait hole closed. Staring up at the boy's staircase, he contemplated about going up there. He'd already had a run-in with Ron and the other boys, and he wasn't sure how they would react towards him now.

Harry decided it would be best for both him, and the others if he slept in the common room that night. He didn't feel like making anyone else angry at him.

The boy made his way over to one of the large armchairs by the roaring fire and settled down on it, covering himself up with his robe. He stared tiredly at the flames, his mind finally settling to a numb silence.

He had no idea of how long he sat there, mesmerized by the fire, but eventually he slipped off to sleep, into the world of dreams.

_twoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonego_

_A metallic sound echoed around him. It was dark everywhere. His heartbeat quickened as he felt a sense of oddness around him. There was something not right - something in the air just tasted wrong. _

_He looked around, but saw only black. _

"_Hello?" he called out, hoping for an answer. None came. _

_He turned around in fruitless attempts to find anyone or anything. He reached out with shaking hands, desperate to find something solid besides the ground under his feet. There was nothing. _

"_Someone?" _

_Click… click… click… _

_That noise. It sounded distant, yet close at the same time. What was it? _

_Click… click… click… _

_He took a small step forward, his feet awkwardly feeling the ground before him in assurance that he wouldn't plunge head first down a hole. He felt the air around him shift to allow him to move. It was an odd feeling, he noted. _

_He walked slowly for a while, getting nowhere but somewhere at the same time. He was desperate to find out where he was - he didn't like the feeling of black pressure all around him. _

_Click… click… cli…_

_The feeling of suffocation enveloped him and he felt a panic rise up into this throat. He shook his head, but felt a cold terror rise up in him. Something was _there. _That distant noise stopped, and a thud came from somewhere behind him._

_He whipped around, eyes wide in the dark._

_But he saw nothing._

"_Who's there?" his voice echoed out._

_A grounding sound, like stone against stone came to his ears. What was it?_

"_Nguh…"_

_The hair on his neck rose at the sound. It wasn't a natural, human, or animal sound. He turned heel and fled into the darkness, away from whatever the thing was. He ran and ran, unsure of where he was headed, but only knowing it was away from it._

_Then he ran into something, and warm arms encircled him._

"_Help!" he cried out in terror._

"_Hush," a calm, soothing voice. "It's alright, I'm here now."_

_He stopped and looked up into the darkness. He couldn't see who it was, but the warmth of the body ensured protection. He didn't want to be let go._

_He rested his forehead against what he guessed was the persons chest. He felt affection in his heart, though why, he was uncertain._

"_Don't let it get me," he whispered, his heart beating with the mere idea._

"_Don't worry, Harry, I wont…"_

_twoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonegotwoinonego_

A/N: So… this chapter isn't great, but I thought it was alright. It took longer to do, because first of all - I had re-written it because I didn't like it the first time, then my computer crashed again (surprise surprise) but I was smart this time and had it saved onto a disk. Except for it was the first version, so I had to re-do that as well, but it's decent enough (not as great as the first re-write though).

That last bit in the italics is another dream sequence, in case anyone was wondering. It's a bit confusing.

Now in case you're wondering why I left the chapter off at such an awkward place is because I wanted to update, plus I'm stuck on the next part. It's best that I update this part now, so you can read it, instead of waiting another week or so to get it up with what little else I had planned for the rest of the chapter. - Min


	11. His Coincidence, My Dependence

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.**

A/N: Jeez, I'm so slow at updating. But I need to get my mind off of stuff that's happening right now so I'm going to lose myself into the wonderful world of fan fiction. :D Before I go, is anyone even reading this still? I'm just really curious - since it's a one lady job now, it's harder to get the plot together from near scratch, and I want to know if it's causing the story to go downhill. Anyways, regardless of that, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

Thanks for all the reviews! I've been meaning to respond to loads of reviews, but I haven't had much time to. Forgive me! If you asked something and I never responded, please just ask again and I'll give you the answer! I promise to respond to any and all reviews for this chapter, unless otherwise completely occupied.

* * *

Preternatural

By: xScenex

Chapter Eleven: His Coincidence, My Dependence

* * *

Harry's eyes snapped open. He sat up hurriedly, looking around.

He was still in the common room, and the sun was just beginning to rise over the treetops. No one was up yet, as it was Sunday morning. No one would get up until later in the morning, closer to the afternoon hours. He sighed heavily before shaking his head wonderingly.

The boy sat up fully and stretched catlike on the chair, his thin arms extended in front of him like those of a ghost. It hadn't been the most comfortable thing he'd slept in, he mused slightly, but it wasn't the worst.

After stretching, he flopped back into the chair, letting the warmth heat his back. It felt nice to just sit there, unbothered as the nearly dead fire emitted a soft glow into the dimly lighted common room.

He tilted his head to the side a bit and examined a portrait on the wall above the mantle through the strands of hair that feel in the way. A woman inside the picture lay asleep in her chair, a ball of yarn dangling from her lap.

He stared at her for a while, wondering just who she was before his focus went to the dream he had had that night.

What had that all been about? He hadn't remembered many dreams in the past few weeks, but that one had been quite vivid. He could still feel his heart fluttering from the many emotions he had felt in his dream.

There seemed to be some kind of recognition in his dream as well, but he couldn't place it. Who was the person in the end before he woke up? And what had that thing been that had filled his dream-self with fear?

He shook his head slowly and closed his eyes as his hair fell into his face, shielding his face from view. He decided to just forget about it. Dreams were dreams, and they usually didn't help him at all - look at what happened to Sirius in his other life.

Harry sat there for a while, just letting the silence of the room take over him until he heard people beginning to stir from the upstairs dormitories. He could hear muttering and doors opening as the early birds began to dress for the day, efficiently bugging the others.  
He didn't move from his spot until he heard someone coming down one of the staircases.

Cracking open one of his eyes, he saw a flash of bushy brown hair. What a surprise.

"Morning, Hermione," he said quietly, his lips barely moving as he spoke.

Said girl stopped in her tracks to look around her. "Oh, hi Harry." She seemed mildly surprised to see him. "You're up early."

"So are you," he replied, sitting up straight and stretching once more. There was a dull soreness in his bones, and he found it uncomfortable. "We don't even have classes today."

"But there's homework to be done," the girl said in a nearly exasperated tone.

Harry shook his head once more and stood up, his shirt wrinkled from the nights stay in the common room. He gave the girl a lopsided smile before replying, "I'm only joking, Hermione."

Hermione in turn just stared at him, her gaze scrutinizing obvious.

"You're a mess. What happened to you?"

Harry gave her a quizzical look, "Just one of those rough nights, you know?"

She shook her head with a frown pulling down on her lips, "You really should take better care of yourself." Hermione took a seat next to the chair he had been sitting in.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "Look, I don't want to talk about this, okay?"

The girl nodded slowly. "So, have you started on that essay for Professor McGonagall?"

Harry shook his head negatively, "Nah. I've been occupied."

She gave him a sour look, "You really shouldn't put your school work second. What do you expect to do after this year? It's our last chance to set ourselves for a career - do you even know what you want to be?"

Harry gave her a small smile, although his eyes were focused on something distant - something more far away than the room.

Thoughts of his old life surfaced, and he wondered what he really did want to do or if he'd ever get the chance to do it. Maybe he'd die as a hero - then he wouldn't have to worry about a career. That seemed to be how everyone thought it would be in his old life.

"I once thought about becoming an Auror," he told her, his voice laced with bitter amusement. "But I'm not sure I'll last long enough to become one."

"Of course you can, if you set your mind to it," Hermione chattered on matter-of-factly, not catching onto the true meaning of his words.

Harry stared at her as she continued to lecture him about the 'proper way to approach things' while not really even hearing She hadn't changed a bit. He nodded slowly when she looked expectantly at him and her face brightened.

"You see! You're smart enough to do it - maybe you can get some extra lessons so that you can catch up on the classes you need to become one. I'm sure if you ask Dumbledore, or even McGonagall, she'll find a way to try and get you extra help. Not that I'm saying that you aren't learning well, it's just…"

Harry felt his lips twitching into a smile again as she tried to find the right way to put the words. "I sucked?"

"No!" she nearly screamed, exasperation in her eyes. She huffed loudly after realizing that he was just playing around with her.

Harry stood up, laughing slightly. "I'm only joking with you, Hermione. Anyway, I'm going to go upstairs for a bit. I'll catch you around."

He took off, not waiting for her answer. As soon as he rounded the corner of the staircase so that he was out of view of Hermione, he took the steps slowly, but deliberately at a snail pace so that he would postpone going up into his dormitory. He wasn't sure how the other boys would act towards him.

Within a minute, he found himself stopping at the door to their shared room and reached out for the doorknob. He could hear some muttering from inside and strained to hear the voices. They were barely recognizable. He paused with his hand hovering above the brass knob.

"-- see why it's such a big deal." It sounded like Neville was speaking.

"He might be one of them." Ron, of course.

"I doubt that. He was at the department with us last year. I don't think he'd just up and change his mind like that."

"But I don't trust him anymore, and you can't blame me for that."

Harry knew that he was who they were talking about. Gritting his teeth together in annoyance, he loudly rattled the doorknob before turning it fully and pushing the door open. He didn't want to just walk in on them in the middle of their speech and cause more tension.

It seemed that only Neville and Ron were awake at the time. They both turned in his direction when he stepped into the room slowly. Neville smiled slightly at him, albeit nervously. Ron just stared.

"_Sorry_ to interrupt you," Harry said silkily, though he strained the first word. He could feel a slight anger in his chest, but he pushed it down with the reminder that he had to keep things as normal as possible around the two of them, otherwise he might just get found out. "I'll just be changing, and then I'll go."

The next few minutes were awkward as he bustled about, pulling his bed curtains closed so that he could change his clothing in private. He heard a bit of muffled whispering, but blocked it out after the first few seconds. He'd rather not hear anything being said about him.

After pulling his shirt over his head, he left, bidding the others goodbye with just a look before he went back into the common room.

A few more people had risen for the day and sat either tiredly or hungrily in the chairs scattered throughout the room. Harry couldn't bring himself to look at anyone, for he was too annoyed and was afraid he'd glare down upon them if they even chanced a glance. No doubt word was getting around that he was nothing more than an insane boy.

His path directed him towards the door, which opened readily for him. He quietly hopped up onto the upper platform and started down the hallway, wondering if it was too early to actually go have breakfast. He guessed it was all right; the less people there, the better.

When he entered the Great Hall, he saw no one there. The professors weren't even at the high table yet.

Stifling a small yawn, Harry sulked to the end of the Gryffindor Table, where he had fallen accustomed to sitting. As soon as his bottom hit the seat, a tray of toast, bacon, and sausages appeared in front of him.

He stared blankly at it for a few seconds before grimacing in disgust. None of it sounded appetizing at the moment. He stared away from the steaming food and looked up above himself. The ceiling swirled with grey clouds.

It looked like a late summer storm was moving in.

Harry glanced idly at the food again but shook his head. He didn't want it. He pushed himself away from the table with his arms and swung his legs around the bench before standing up and making his way towards the main door that led to the Hogwarts grounds.

Outside, there was a slight wind beginning to pick up, carrying with it the smell of rain. It felt a bit muggy, but otherwise nice, Harry noted as he stood in the shadows of one of the many pillars and stared out at the endless green grounds.

After a few minutes, the boy slid down to the concrete ground and rested his head against the column, his black locks falling elegantly against his thin shoulders. He rested his elbows against his knees, and held his hands out, palm upwards.

They were just as thin as they were before his aunt had given him that strange object that had led him to that world. They still shook slightly, but this time, he knew it was from nerves.

Thinking on the subject, he wondered once more what had actually happened the night he was brought into that alternate version of his world. Maybe he should try looking for the object in textbooks. Luna might even know, he thought to himself. She seemed to know more than he did at the moment about everything.

Harry clinched his hands together tightly. It just wasn't fair. He hated not knowing. In the dark, he was always unsure of his choices - he'd made so many wrong ones that he couldn't trust himself with the paths anymore, seeing as to how things were turning out.

Sure, he wasn't a savior anymore, but he was now just an ordinary boy expected to do ordinary things. Anything out of step labeled him a freak, even in Wizarding standards. Especially when he showed 'suddenly increasing' magical tendencies that he 'used to not have'.

Sighing heavily, he glanced out at the sky again. He wished it would rain, right then and there to block out the deafening quiet that surrounded him. Even the wind couldn't be heard although it blew around him and the pillars.

His eyes traveled down away from the clouds, and to the forest further away. He could see a large figure moving to and fro around a large hut, and knew it had to be Hagrid. He hadn't even spoken to the half-giant since he'd been in that world. Was he even friends with him?

He figured not, since the Neville from his world had always preferred Herbology over anything else. But why not make a 'new' acquaintance?

He hesitated, though. What if Hagrid didn't like him? Or what if he already was friends with him? It would be slightly awkward if he introduced himself again to someone who knew him.

Harry sighed heavily and lightly bumped his head back against the pillar a few times. It was hopeless to try and figure anything out.

A light whoosh suddenly sounded around the area, and he looked to the side. A light, dull grey rain had started to fall towards the ground and concrete.

He watched as the blades of grass slowly glistened with the drops of precipitation, and the concrete soon turned a dark grey. Everything felt drearier for some reason.

"Potter!"

Harry, not expecting anyone to be out there at that time of the morning, turned his head quickly to find the source of noise.

When he spotted the person of interference, he groaned in annoyance. It was none other than Draco Malfoy; again.

He vaguely wondered if the Slytherin was following him around. He seemed to always appear when he least expected him to, and when no one else was around.

As he watched the blonde boy walk fluidly towards him, a small smirk on his face, Harry wondered what he wanted.

Was he going to argue with Harry about the mirror again? Or was he going to hex him to Hades and back? The latter sounded more like Malfoy, but he wasn't really up to that.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his tone quiet.

"You automatically think I want something, Potter?"

"Why else would you bother me?" Harry spat, venom lacing his words. He didn't want to play mind games anymore.

To his surprise, the other boy looked slightly deflated after his remark, but he quickly recovered. Just then, Harry noticed the dark circles that lined the underside of the boy's eyes. It seemed that he hadn't slept much.

"'Bother' is a harsh word," he told him smoothly, his eyes dancing with pleasure as Harry's face twisted in anger. "You shouldn't be so egotistical about thinking you know other people. I don't 'bother' you Potter. I just treat you how you deserve to be treated."

Harry stood up quicker than he usually did, surprising Malfoy slightly. "Just shut up," he ground out between clenched teeth. "I don't want to mess with you right now."

The Gryffindor turned on heel, heading towards to main doors again. "So just leave me alone and don't bother me."

He actually thought that Malfoy would let him go after he had taken a few steps without interference, but he felt a hand grab his shoulder seconds later. He reached in his pocket and pulled his wand out. He was about to turn around when he felt the grip tighten, and Malfoy whispered quietly.

"Don't worry, Potter, I wont."

He froze. Those words sounded so familiar…

… suffocation enveloped him… he saw nothing…

_"Who's there?" A noise. "Help!"_

_"Hush…"_

_"Don't let me go…"_

_"Don't worry, Harry, I wont…"_

His dream from the night before rushed past him before he had time to even blink, and he turned frantically around, no longer caring that he held a wand.

He stared quizzically and anxiously at the Slytherin's surprised face, who seemed only mere inches from his. His pale hair glowed as the grey light from behind made a light silhouette around his form.

"What did you say?" he whispered out desperately, trying to find the meaning to everything. His voice sounded of shock.

Stepping back in complete confusion, Malfoy said angrily, "What's with you? You really _are_ mad, aren't you?"

Harry shook his head slowly, black locks swaying with the movements, and stepped back a few paces. "Something's happening," he whispered to himself so quietly that the other boy didn't hear him.

He turned quickly and headed towards the doors again at a near run, not daring to look back at the other boy. He didn't need to - the look on his face after Harry had turned around was already etched into his mind. It had to be a mere coincidence that he had said almost the exact same words as the person in his dream. It had to be…

He reached the doors and pushed them open, slipping inside and running down one of the nearest halls without even thinking of where it would lead him.

Harry had to get away from everyone for a while. Everything seemed to be happening more quickly than anything he'd ever been through before. It was like two lives sewed into one, moving two times as fast but at the same time, burdened slower with two alternatives.

Everything was just getting complicated, and Harry feared that he couldn't put a stop to it. He just wanted to burrow somewhere and be left alone.

But nothing ever seemed to go his way. He just wanted to get out of the nightmare. But there was no one there to wake him up, and help him escape from the dream that was reality. He doubted that there every would be.

* * *

A/N: Does this even make sense? Erg… I feel utterly icky right now, and not in a 'flu-sick' way. Anyway, please tell me if you're confused or if you're following this all right, because I'm really not sure what this sounds and looks like in someone else's perspective. 


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